Reid found it difficult to comprehend how beautiful Morgan looked standing in the snow. His skin was so dark, warm and rich, and the snow literally pale and cold as it fell in flurries around them. It was almost midnight outside the remote inn the team had been forced to stay at with the roads closed with snow at least until the morning, with the snow falling gently over a layer than was already a foot deep. Morgan had gone missing from the room they were sharing, and Reid had found him outside, staring out towards the vast forest in the distance through the snow.
Reid closed the gap between them, footfalls silent in the snow. Morgan didn't realise anyone was with him until Reid was beside him, hands in the pocket of his long coat. Derek looked at him, and Spencer could see snowflakes caught in his short dark eyelashes and his strong eyebrows. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of his friend, and he was pretty sure Morgan's own smile was a response to his, a thought which made his heart flutter.
"I can't sleep." Morgan said simply. Reid didn't say anything, simply looked out towards the forest, taking in the beautiful darkness of the rolling country beyond them. It was dark dusted with pure white that reflected the only light around, the moonlight breaking through swirls of cloud, and stars beyond.
"Nightmares?" Reid asked kindly. Morgan had once told him he had them, when Reid had worried about his own years previously.
"No." Morgan shook his head. "Just dreams. Good dreams, I think. Just of things I don't wanna dream about, y'know?" when Reid didn't answer, Morgan glanced at him, sizing him up before he looked back out at the snow falling on the landscape. "Dreams of things I'm too much of a coward to make happen."
"Like what?" Reid asked softly.
"Of y- ... never mind. Nothing." Derek shook his head. Reid turned his face to look at Morgan, who kept staring out, avoiding Reid's gaze.
"You're not a coward, Morgan." He said. "I don't believe it."
"Not facing things that scare me makes me a coward, Reid." He sighed, looking up at the sky. Snowflakes that fell on his face melted at the warmth of his skin, but not on the shoulders of his coat.
"Fear is normal. Self-preservation is a perfectly healthy behaviour."
"What about when self-preservation is keeping you from something you want but are too scared to risk?" Morgan asked, and it could have passed for hypothetical if he were talking to anyone but Reid in the snow. "That's being a coward."
"Then be brave." Reid shrugged his shoulders minutely, turning his own face to the sky too.
The slight swirling breeze flurried snow around them, catching in their eyebrows and in Reid's hair, but it was peaceful and beautiful. The unblemished blanket of snow lying before them was calming, ghostly pale against the dark night. Reid took his hands out of his pockets and smoothed them over his coat, letting his shoulders relax.
At first he thought it was a snowflake falling against his finger; but it was warm, and it took Reid's brain several seconds to process that it was the slightest brush of flesh. He didn't move, and slowly he felt Morgan's smallest finger brushing against his own. He knew it was deliberate when it curled, gently linking their pinkies. Without looking around Reid moved his hand just as slowly and cautiously against the other warmer one, fingers brushing each other as if convinced the hand they were touching would break if they applied even a little pressure. When Morgan's fingers slotted between his own, Reid gently clasped his hand; closing his eyes briefly and smiling as the action was mirrored. The contact increased, the space between them shrinking until their arms were pressed to each other, hands clasped more firmly against the breath of cold.
Reid turned his head a little, finding Morgan looking at him, smiling softly while his eyes shone in the moonlight. Reid returned the look, marvelling at how beautiful Morgan was when that smile shaped his dark face, with the snow dancing around him.
Between them, Morgan's thumb brushed gently over Reid's, and he squeezed his hand.
"This is my winter song, December never felt so wrong, because you're not where you belong; inside my arms." – Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson: Winter Song