Alright, I'm embracing the idea of writing a holiday story. So, obviously, this is a Valentine's Day story. I'm getting it in just under the wire here, at least in my time zone. Fear not. I will be having an update for TBWIM soon, I promise. I've been getting all these "visitors" aka plot bunnies. But, I missed Christmas and New Years, so Valentine's it is.
WARNINGS: Slash (nothing graphic), Femslash (nothing graphic, and my first dabble into it), some swearing.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds much to my chagrin. Of course, there would be a lot more slash in it if there was. It would be canon slash, YES!
CREDIT: Credit for this plot idea goes to ihli. She's awesome. I asked her for a Valentine's Day prompt. What did she do? She gave me five. Five. And they're all amazing and will be written eventually though not necessarily as Valentine's Day stories.
I hope that you enjoy it.
~Shameless
"Hey, Reid, what are you doing tonight? Any plans?"
The genius just shrugged at his coworker, Emily Prentiss. Honestly, he hated Valentine's Day with a passion. It was just another hallmark holiday with little significance and more heartache than he cared to deal with. Valentine's Day was just another day of bullying and ridicule for Spencer Reid. Always being the youngest in everything, he was continually teased for never getting a date or even for seeming to not be interested in the "holiday of love." Most of his classmates, when he was in school, accused him of being asexual, especially once he was old enough to date. For a long time, he thought they were right. All around, Reid just despised Valentine's Day for the feelings that it brought out in him.
"Not really," he said matter-of-factly.
"Oh come on, Pretty Boy. You don't have any plans to hook up with a holiday honey?"
Reid just continued to work through his case file paperwork.
"No. I'm going home and eating a bowl of ramen noodles. Maybe I'll watch Star Trek. Are you going to pick on me for that, too? So, Morgan, what are you doing for Valentine's?"
Prentiss made a sound of disgust as an unidentifiable look crossed Morgan's face for a split second before a smirk appeared.
"You just had to, didn't you, Reid? Argh. Now he's never going to shut up!"
Reid just stared intently at his desk. A barely audible whisper of "I'm sorry" fell from the genius's lips. Neither of his coworkers heard it. He hated upsetting his friends. He wasn't normally so short about things, but the bitterness that he associated with Valentine's Day was enough to shorten his fuse considerably.
"Lay off, Prentiss! If Reid wants to know, then I'm going to tell him. Lord knows he could use some pointers when it comes to the ladies," Morgan said as he waved his hands to outline a woman's figure. "Check it out. I made reservations at that swanky Italian place that Rossi is always singing the praises of. I scoped the place out: low lighting, candlelit tables, and soft strings playing in the background. So, here's how it's going to go. Quiet conversation takes place over two glasses of a robust merlot wine. She'll look out the window to see the lights of the city and that's when I'll make my more. Just a gentle brush of my fingertips against the back of her hand. She'll startle and blush; I'll just give her a smile. After eating, I'll ask her if we should get out of there. We'll walk down the street to my car with her clutching my arm for warmth. I'll open the door for her. And then we'll get back to my place where we will make love 'till the sun comes up."
Prentiss was rubbing her temples and mouthing the words along with Morgan. It was obvious to Reid that she had heard the story multiple times that day. He was sorry he had asked.
"That sounds nice, Morgan, as long as it works out that way. There are a lot of variables that you didn't address, of course. What if she doesn't like red wine? Or what if there's some obnoxious couple at the table next to you that decides exhibitionism is the new kinky frontier and everyone will enjoy the show? Or heaven forbid she's just not that into you," Reid said sarcastically.
Morgan started to laugh. "A girl who isn't into me? Hah! That's really funny, Reid. I don't foresee that being a problem."
Reid just flipped to the next page of the file that he was looking at. "You should watch those narcissistic tendencies," he muttered. He crossed the last "t" and closed the file. He was already dreading his night alone in his apartment. He liked his solitude, but it was so hard to watch everyone around him enjoyed Valentine's Day when he couldn't have what he wanted. Valentine's Day used to leave him bitter due to the ridicule that he received from his associates, but in recent years, it hurt far worse to watch what he desired but couldn't have on the holiday dedicated to lovers.
As Reid gathered his things into neat piles, Garcia, resident deity of all things technical, walked over to the trio. She walked right up to Prentiss and clasped one of the hands that had been rubbing her head.
"Let's go sexy lady. You promised me a night of chocolate, strawberries, and whip cream."
Prentiss cracked a smile and stood. She leaned over and kissed the corner of Garcia's mouth; fraternization policies be damned. Prentiss shrugged into her coat and laced her fingers with Garcia's. "I'll catch you gentlemen later. My lady awaits." Garcia giggled as they walked out of the bull pen.
Reid had been very happy for the two of them. Most people turned a blind eye to them and for that he was thankful. They were still awaiting special dispensation to have a completely open relationship. Strauss had decided to superglue the bureaucratic red tape together for Lord knows what reason. Reid just thought she was too much of a prude to see that the two women were madly in love with each other. A small twinge of pain went through Reid. He stood and slung his satchel over his shoulder.
"Good luck with your night, Morgan. I hope that you enjoy yourself." And with that, Reid walked out of the bullpen.
He made the short commute to his apartment and despondently entered his home. He set his keys on the table by the door and threw his coat onto the hook. His bag hit the floor. As he had promised, Reid set a small pot onto the stove and began to boil the water that he had put in it. When the water had come to a sufficient temperature, it boiled furiously. Reid dropped the chunk of noodles into the pot and waited. It reminded him of his college days when he couldn't afford to eat much more than ramen noodles every night. Luckily, he rather liked them, so it didn't bother him that he ate them all the time.
Rather than watch Star Trek, Reid turned on Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 and curled up with Hamlet while he ate his meager supper. He absently wondered what Morgan would think if he knew that he was reading a Shakespearian tragedy that wasn't Romeo and Juliet on Valentine's Day. However, he found that he identified more with Hamlet than he did with Romeo. From his mourning of a lost father figure and conflict with his lover to the need to attain justice, Reid saw many parallels between himself and the tragic hero. Of course, he knew that he would never turn to murder to get justice for those, but he did hunt murderers, so the concept was at least similar. Reid sighed and lost himself in the literature.
~.oOo.~
Morgan patiently waited outside Bel Cibo, which according to Rossi meant "beautiful food", for the girl, Lorna…Laura…something with an "l", to return so they could go inside. Honestly, so she had forgotten her phone. It wasn't like she should need it while they were eating. Morgan clapped his hands together to try and shake away some of the cold. He was not enjoying the cold snap that had set in after the nice weather the country had been experiencing. Finally, the girl was in sight. She really was beautiful. Long black hair fell down her back in elegant curls, and the bronze tone of her skin glowed with health. She had curves in all the right places. Morgan was looking forward to what awaited after dinner.
However, as the woman's hand came to rest in the crook of his arm, Morgan was struck by a flash of Reid sitting pitiably at his desk working on files. He shook his head to clear the visual away. He needed to get a hold of himself. Here he was with a beautiful girl on the romance day of the year, and he was thinking about Reid of all people.
"You okay?" Leslie…er, the woman asked. Morgan did feel rather guilty about not remembering her name.
"I'm fine," he replied.
They entered the restaurant together and made their way over to the host's podium. Morgan, being a property owner, definitely appreciated the style of the restaurant. It was very rustic looking with stone walls and heavy wood I-beams that had vines growing around them. The entirety of the building smelt divine. The aromas of garlic and tomatoes and cheese wafted around the room in a sensual caress of olfactory pleasure.
"Morgan. Reservation for two."
The host nodded and led them to a table by the window. Ever the gentleman, Morgan held the chair out for his date and waited for her to be seated before he sat himself. A waiter approached the table.
"How may I serve you both tonight?" he asked, handing them both menus. "Our specials tonight include: chicken primavera, four-cheese baked lasagna, and the traditional spaghetti."
"A bottle of Merlot to start, I think."
"Actually, I prefer white wine."
Immediately, Morgan flashed back to Reid's remark about his date not liking red wine. He remembered the way Reid had said it so lackadaisically with his lips pouting ever so slightly. And then, he flashed back to reality. The waiter was looking between Morgan and his date, wondering what he should do.
"Oh, that's…that's fine. How about chardonnay?"
The woman smiled. "That'll be fine."
"We do have a chardonnay-pinot blanc blend. The grapes used are very similar; it is a popular choice."
Morgan just nodded, and the waiter was off. Morgan turned his full attention back to his date. He really needed to find out the woman's name.
"So, where are you from?" he asked, blindly grasping at straws. He hoped that she hadn't realized that he had forgotten her name.
"I'm from Roseville. My sister was named after the city because my mother loved the city and the flower so much," she answered. Morgan smiled at that; he had found his in.
"And what was her motivation behind your name? I don't really know why my mother named me Derek." There were times that Morgan thanked the Lord above that he was a profiler. Today was one of those days.
"Well, my mother loved Greek mythology. She had at one point wanted to teach the subject. Lydia is a city in Greek mythology that was connected to the tale of Hercules. My mother loved the tale of Hercules," Lydia said.
Lydia. Morgan had to make sure that he remembered that. The waiter soon returned with the wine and took their order. Morgan ordered the lasagna while Lydia ordered spaghetti. They continued to talk about nonsensical things that Morgan was sure he would not remember. Lydia prattled on and on about working as a teaching assistant at the medical college while she worked on finishing up the schooling to be an emergency room surgical nurse. It seemed like an interesting, albeit stressful, career to Morgan, but for some reason, he couldn't focus on her. It felt like he was miles away. He didn't even notice the food arrive. He just absently said thank you after he heard Lydia say it.
It had never happened since high school, but Morgan had hit an awkward moment on a date. Lydia just stared at him, and then she did something that turned Morgan's world on its ear. She curled her lips in and rubbed them together nervously. Immediately, Morgan's mind flashed through every time he had seen Reid do the same nervous tic. The last time had been this afternoon before he left, before he went home to his empty apartment to do nothing that deviated from his normal daily activities.
"Derek? Deeerek? You still there?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry. I spaced out there for a second, sorry. So, why did you decide to become a nurse?" he asked, quite lamely.
"Well," she said, "I did it because I wanted to help people. So that they would have someone to help them when they needed it. Didn't you become an FBI agent for a similar reason?"
Morgan smiled half-heartedly. "Touché." He didn't really want to do all the talking. He couldn't figure out why he couldn't seem to engage in conversation with Lydia. She was smart, successful, and pretty to boot. Yet there he was being bored to death by her. What the hell.
And Reid needed to stop crossing his mind constantly. The kid could handle himself. He chose not to have plans on Valentine's Day; he's the one who was just sitting at home doing nothing at all…completely alone. Fuck. The kid shouldn't be having this impact on him. He should want to be getting on to the next part of his plan with Lydia, the one where he suggested that they leave seeing as she didn't strike Morgan as the type to startle at the brush of his hand. He was seriously off his game at this point. Truth be told, he didn't even want to take her home with him. And if he did, it was just going to be mechanical sex with no emotion, a means to a biological release, a cocktail of chemical signals as Reid would say. And back to Reid. Poor Reid, who was spending a day alone that should be spent feeling loved and cherished.
That was it. Morgan couldn't take it anymore. He had to go and check on his Pretty Boy. The kid needed to know that someone cared about him enough to not leave him alone on a holiday. Morgan signaled for the check and quickly paid.
He and Lydia left the restaurant and walked to their cars. At least that part of his plan had occurred accordingly.
"Hey, Lydia. I'm sorry, but I just can't do this. I know that we had other plans, but, well…I've got to check up on someone," Morgan said as he absently rubbed the back of his neck. He felt a warm blush stain his cheeks even though it was hardly visible. "I'm sorry if you feel led on, but I just can't."
Lydia smiled graciously and kissed Morgan's cheek. "It's alright. I understand. I hope that she is worth it. Thanks for dinner, Derek." She walked to her car and got in, leaving Morgan standing there dumbfounded. He couldn't believe that he was getting off so easily. And then he remembered what she had said, I hope she is worth it. Morgan smiled.
"Yes, he is," he whispered into the crisp air.
He quickly got into his car and drove to Reid's apartment.
~.oOo.~
Hearing a sharp rap on his door, Reid startled awake. Hamlet lay half-read on his lap; the empty bowl from his dinner sat innocently on the coffee table. The symphony, however, continued to play in the background since the player was on a repeat loop. Reid rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He glanced at the clock. 9:22 pm.
"Who the hell is at my door at 9:30 at night?"
Clad in only the loose sweat pants and baggy t-shirt that he had thrown on while cooking dinner, Reid walked over and opened the door.
"M-m-Morgan," he stammered, "Wh-what are you d-doing h-here?"
Reid began to curl self-consciously into himself. He never allowed his coworkers to see him in such casual clothes. He normally ended up falling asleep in his work clothes when they were on a case anyways. He wasn't very comfortable with his body. It unnerved him that Morgan was seeing him this way. He knew that the t-shirt was slightly too big for him and hung askew, exposing one of his thin shoulders. The sweatpants that he was wearing were slung low on his hips. He may not be as toned as Morgan or Hotch, but he did have some muscular definition, which was exposed by the hip-hugging sweats.
"Why am I here?" Morgan asked almost predatorily. "I'm here because I can't figure out why I can't get you out of my goddamn head. All through dinner tonight, all I could think about was you. How you act, your mannerisms, you being in here all alone on Valentine's Day. The entire night was a fiasco. I didn't even remember the girl's name for the first quarter of the night! Oh, and nice call; she doesn't like red wine."
Reid started backing away from Morgan. He wasn't sure if he liked the gleam in Morgan's eyes. It looked to him like lust, but then again, he was afraid to hope it was so. The object of his desire was here in his apartment looking for all the world like the predator that just cornered its prey. Derek Morgan was everything that Spencer Reid wanted, and everything that he couldn't have. It was against the rules. It wasn't love; this was lust. Reid didn't know if he wanted to take a chance with lust. It could make his entire life unstable and awkward. He needed control in his life; he feared what the absence of it would drive him to. He needed control in his life; he feared what the absence of it would drive him to. His hand idly rubbed the inside of his arm.
Morgan followed Reid into the apartment; the door closed behind him. He followed Reid as he backpedaled into a wall. Reid pressed himself up against the wall as far as he could. The stings of the symphony reached a crescendo in the background. Morgan was directly in front of him with his hands on either side of Reid's face. Though he was taller than the other agent, Morgan seemed to make him shorter than he was. Reid was apprehensive, borderline scared, but judging by the tightness in his sweatpants, that wasn't really a bad thing. Maybe he should just go for it. He had wanted Morgan for a long time. If all he got was a lustful partner for one night, he was going to have to be satisfied with that. But he wondered how Morgan would react when his head cleared. Reid looked Morgan directly in the eye. Their faces were mere inches from each other.
"Morgan, I'm not a woman."
Morgan tilted his head to the side and surveyed Reid's face. The symphony wailed in the background; the notes were strong, pulsing, and rapidly moving, much like Reid's and Morgan's hearts.
"Hmm. I know. But you are pretty. Pretty boy…my Pretty Boy."
Reid really should be worrying over Morgan's sanity, but all logical thought was cut off when Morgan smashed their lips together. Reid moaned and brought his hands up to Morgan's neck. He opened his mouth slightly and prodded at Morgan's lips. The other opened his mouth, and their tongues entwined. Morgan's body moved forward and pressed up against Reid. The warmth of his body and that of Reid's channeled back and forth between them. Morgan's hands rubbed Reid all over, grasped him, sent shivers through his body.
Repercussions be damned. This felt far too good for Reid to stop. At that point, he didn't care about the consequences that this could have on the team. All he knew was that he finally had what he always wanted.
When breathing became a necessity, they separated. Morgan rested his forehead against Reid's.
"How are you doing this to me?"
"I don't know. Do you regret it?"
"No. I think, Reid…Spencer, I've always been attracted to you. I just mistook it for protective, older-brotherly feelings. But, this year, you let your guard down, and I saw you for the first time. So, do you want this?"
Reid leant forward and brushed his lips against Morgan's before whispering, "Yes. What did you have in mind?"
Morgan grinned lasciviously and tugged at the elastic waistband of Reid's sweatpants. The other hand's fingers danced over the pale, exposed collarbone. It would look even better when it was colored purple with a love bite.
"Well, I was thinking that we could make love 'till the sun comes up."
I could be persuaded into doing a sequel if there is enough demand for it. Heck, I might do one anyways, but I'd love to know what you all thought of it whether it was love or hate.