I own nothing…
Too happy not to continue…
Reid comment enjoy.
Morgan can't look Reid in the eye.
He just can't.
So, he drives them home in silence.
If Garcia picks up the tension, she doesn't comment. Prentiss doesn't tease. J.J. doesn't coddle or investigate. Cadet sits there clueless.
Spencer Reid bites his lip, staring out the window. Morgan stomach jumps everytime Reid's gaze lights on him.
He didn't mean to do it…
He might as well have screamed at the top of his lung in the middle of the bull pen at the B.A.U. –
"I'm a fag and I have it bad for a beautiful, sexy genius who's way out of my league."
But he won't.
Instead, he visits a local bar, settling on a stool.
He's going to get drunk. Sloppy. Pissy. Drunk.
He's going to forget that he didn't have the right mind to stop himself. To not get hard like a stupid horny teenager, pining after the pretty girl next door.
Pretty Boy…
He's going to forget. Forget that he loves to just touch Reid just for the sake of contact. That he likes to just look at him. Likes to listen to him ramble. Likes the way he smells.
Because if he didn't, he'd go crazy. If he did, he'd go crazier.
He's going to forget that he pressed himself against Reid, whispering the godforsaken name he gave the kid…why?
Because it hurts too much.
Because he was stupid. Because he's tired of lying, but just doesn't know how to do it.
To tell the truth. To be honest. To Reid. To his team. To his family. To himself.
As he knocks back the first drink (beer's too light…but he's wimping out and doesn't think he wants to lose all his senses just yet) his phone buzzes.
He sighs, fishing it out of his pocket.
Reid.
He places it on the counter, ignoring it.
Hang up…call back…ignore… Hang up…call back…ignore.
This goes on for a good five minutes, and Morgan finally takes pity and shuts his phone off, tempted to chuck it in the crowd, for it to get lost in the withering mass of hot bodies…maybe he just needs a good lay. He hasn't had a piece of eye candy in his bed for what…six months? Not that he's counting.
He sits there…getting strange looks from the bartender and patrons.
It shows how much people care these days.
Morgan feels a hand on his shoulder and shivers.
He knows that hand as if it were his own.
Or maybe it's the smell. The smell of sweet coffee and ink and caramel and…him.
He can't turn around.
"Morgan?" His voice is soft…breaking.
"Morgan, please look at me." Pleading almost. He shouldn't have to.
"How-"Morgan's voice is rusty from non use…he's sat there for over an hour. "How did you find me?"
"You always bring me here when you think I need to 'get out and meet a girl…go get laid.'" There's a slight lithe in Reid's voice as his hand slides off Morgan's shoulder. Reid turns the stool around until Morgan's facing Reid.
"You didn't mean that, I take it." Reid's whispers, trying to make eye contact with Morgan.
It hurts too much. He didn't mean to go that far.
He's a fag who likes Reid.
He's a fag who loves Reid.
He's a fag.
He loves Reid…
"Morgan stop." Reid says forcefully, gripping Morgan's hand within his own. "It's okay."
Morgan's eyes shift back and forth, he wants so bad to escape this, escape his skin…just for a little while.
"Morgan…"Reid shifts, pulling Morgan off the stool. Morgan stumbles forward, legs wobbling as Reid steadies him with a broad hand on his torso.
"Morgan." Reid murmurs as he wraps his arms around Morgan's frame. Morgan rests his chin on Reid's shoulder.
They fit like puzzle piece. Morgan already knows this.
They've been here so many times before, when Reid was struggling…coming down off the drugs… the nightmares, the emotions bubbling over…except the roles are reversed as Reid rubs slow circles in Morgan's skin.
"Reid, I'm sorry." Morgan breathes, squeezing Reid tighter.
He really wants to push Reid away and run far away.
He's a fag who—
"I-I love you." The words slip from Morgan's mouth so easily…too bad for the destruction it's going to leave in its wake.
"I know." Reid says, pulling back. Morgan's heart stops. "I love you too." A small smile cricks on the corner of Reid's lips as Morgan searches his eyes for what? Truth? Pity?
The thing is… Morgan knows Reid would never play about something like that. Even if it meant screwing their friendship.
Reid's a romantic at heart…the whole chivalry is dead is not a factor for him.
"Really?" Morgan breathes. Hope flutters, tickling his ribs.
Reid laughs, reaching to pull Morgan closer. His hand settles on the back of Morgan's neck, as he presses a kiss to Morgan lips.
He loves Reid…
Reid loves him back.
Morgan sighs, loosing himself in the simple touch of Reid. The smell of Reid. The taste of Reid.
Damn the people watching, he doesn't care. Hopes they get an eyeful.
"Pretty Boy." Reid pulls away first, smiling at Morgan, who's breathless, chest heaving— not from the lack of air, but want. The want to keep this.
And he tells Reid this. And Reid nods, in understanding. In agreement.
"This…I can't see this being…It has to be serious or we can't…" Morgan, smooth, delectable Morgan has been diminished into a tongue tied, bumbling mess.
"I know." Reid puts it simply. "You can start by taking me out to dinner, on a real date. Maybe J.J. and Prentiss could double."Reid says as Morgan laughs.
"The whole teams coupling up. Who's next…Hotch and Rossi?" Morgan's stomach drops as Reid's smile slides off his face.
"Please don't joke about that…gods…committed. To. Long-term. Memory. Get it out!" Reid buries his face into Morgan's chest.
"Sorry Kid…" Morgan shakes with laughter as Reid looks up and scowls playfully. Morgan strokes Reid's hair. Reid purrs, eyes closing in bliss.
"We do have work tomorrow." Reid says, eyes closed. Morgan appreciates the sight, his mind can't help conjure up activities associated with Reid's expression…damn eidetic memory…Morgan's imagination does well enough.
"Come home with me? You…already got some stuff there." Morgan says quietly as Reid opens his eyes, big smile blooming on his face.
"Yeah, that'd be great…like a sleep over. We haven't had one in a while." Reid laments.
"I felt guilty…" Morgan looks down as he entwines their hands. Caramel and cream.
"Don't. I miss them. Come on. It's late." Reid says as he tugs Morgan out to the parking lot to find his car.
'Oh my god, when was this?" Garcia laments as she stares at her computer screen.
"Last night at the theatre. Aren't they cute?"
"Adorable!" Garcia squees as she types away on the computer.
"What are you doing?" apprehension creeps in J.J.'s voice.
"Posting these on twitter, first. And then— Crap, I've got to see if Derek's okay. Remember how quiet he was when he dropped up off. Oh, honey bear." She sighs.
"Right. Reid looked off too. I though it… do you think we could fix it?" J.J. asks, Garcia grabs her cell to text Morgan.
She messages quickly.
"I hope so." Garcia whispers as she hits send.
A/N: so…eh?
Do I do them justice.
Angsty Morgan isn't my strong suit. Angsty Reid is easier.
Wondering if this can continue…the fic I mean.
Let me know what you think. I'll listen.
Thank you in advance for all your wonderful words…
See, now you owe me because I whispered nice things in your ear.
Love you guys. (I'm serious about that.)
