The Essentials of Sociology

Chapter Seven: My Life Plans Got a Kick in the Balls

A/N: I'm updating early because I was having a hard time dealing with the shit cards life gives me. My muse runs wild when I'm sad or angry.

Bloooooo

P.S. If anybody asks though, tell them I write because it keeps me off the streets. That gives me like fifty points in Gangster Cred. Just ask Biggie, JayZ, and Kanye.

"Spencer, I'm sorry. For everything. I'm sorry for kissing you, I'm sorry for pushing you, and I'm incredibly sorry for hurting you. But, you have to understand, you were so… well, I don't know. I really don't. I just want you to talk to me. Plus, I know you're screening this right now. I know it… God, Spence, just… please pick up."

Reid sat on the floor beside his bed, surrounded by books. All of which were large and some of them unread. Half of them were textbooks. One fourth of them were anthologies. The final fourth were autobiographies. Twenty minutes ago, without much of a look, he had grabbed all of the books currently on his bedroom shelf and dumped them onto the carpet. He had decided upon action that he would be organizing them. All 237 of them. Granted, he had double, possibly triple the amount of books in his living room and office. He even had two or three in the bathroom. But, he had decided to clean out his bedroom stash. Not the living room shelves. Not the office stacks. And definitely not his 'leisurely reading' set in the throne room. It had to be in here. Why? He wasn't sure yet.

Grabbing a compact, blue book, he examined the cover. A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking. Hmm. That was a good one. Long winded as fuck, but a good one nonetheless. This book was an overview of cosmology which was an overview of astrophysics which was an overview of science as he knew it. He placed it to his right, mentally marking it as a textbook, even though he was aware that it was more of an in depth thesis on life. Reid grabbed a smaller, black book. It was titled QED: The Strange Theory of Light and Matter. He smiled to himself. He had included this book as a reference for his Physics doctoral analysis. The book was thorough, and quick to the point. Plus, he rather enjoyed the writings of Richard P. Feynman. Textbook.

His house phone began to ring for the fifth time since he had gotten home. It wouldn't take three guesses for the young doctor to nab who it was. Despite him knowing the caller, he wasn't going to answer his phone, no thank you. There was too much going on in his head to focus on what he was trying to push behind. Besides, he was surrounded by a tiny ocean of books. By the time he made it to the phone, it would have gone to voicemail anyway.

There was a loud beep coming from the other side of the room. He reminded himself that the phone will answer whether he picks up or not. If it's important, they'll leave a message. Reid picked up another book. The History of—

"Hey… I know I already left like… six messages…"

Five. Spencer rolled his eyes and tossed the book to his left. Anthology.

"But, I want you to know that I take it all back."

Excuse me? Reid's eyebrows furrowed and he stayed his hand as it reached for another book.

"I'm not sorry that I kissed you. I'm not. You met me halfway, and you really seemed… genuinely happy when I did so. And I was happy too! All I wanted was for you to be happy… with me, and for that, I can't apologize because I feel there's nothing to apologize for."

He paused. Wait, huh? Morgan wanted to be with him? Or did he just want to be happy while Spencer was happy, because for some strange reason, that sounds like a lame excuse to copulate. Morgan didn't seem to understand that Reid was different from him. While Morgan lavished in sex, women and decadence, Reid found his happiness in introspection and analysis. He can't just go balls-to-the-walls and do something completely uncalled for because he feels like it. It's not right! It's not safe! How can Morgan just… do stuff! There has to be some minimal thought involved before anything is done! Including sex. Especially sex. He rolled his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at the phone when I say this…"

Too late.

"…because I'm aware of how cliché it sounds, but… I wanted you for like… ever. I can't say it was the moment I saw you, because it's not true. But when we became friends—no, it was after that. I can't pinpoint the exact date. My memory's not as good as yours, but… those moments when we would spend time patching up each other's lives, and iron out issues whether or not they were huge or small, and when we would just talk… for the sake of hearing each other's voices. It all made sense to me. It was you, Spence. It was always you… and what I really want to say is—BEEP END OF FINAL MESSAGE."

Reid stared at the machine for a moment and whimpered quietly a curse to modern technology. His mind was reeling. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? "He wanted Reid 'for like… ever'?" "It all makes sense to Morgan?" "It was Spencer?" He wanted what forever? What makes sense to Morgan? What was Spencer?

His long fingers combed through his short hair in confusion, as he cursed himself for cutting the locks that used to provide ample finger combing possibilities. Dr. Reid was at a loss. The phone began to ring again, and he jumped up from his seat. Wading impatiently through the books, mistakenly stepping on several sharp edge corners during the journey, he made it to his phone before the final ring. As his finger hovered over the TALK button, the ringing stopped. Great. Only Reid has luck like this. So, he waited for Morgan to speak first.

The first thing he heard was Morgan's gentle laugh. "I can't believe the machine cut me off like that, and, uh… this is gonna sound none short of crazy to you… but I have some serious feelings for you, boy. I can't get rid of them, and believe you me, I tried. I tried so hard. But… ever since you gave me that shot today, kissing me and holding me like that, I just felt like you might… well, you might feel it too. Something was there when we kissed, Spencer. And even though I messed up today, please call me so we can work it out or at least talk. You wanted to talk, right? We'll do that! Honest. We don't even have to be together if that's not what you want, and if it was the sex, we can go without that! Who needs sex anyway, right?" Then he laughed again. "Damn, boy… you got me begging here. Just… please call me."

The machine beeped and, against his better judgment, he put the phone down. Reid sank to the floor. If he picked up the phone right now and called Morgan back and fell in love and rode off into the sunset with him, it change literally everything. It would have to take the life he once knew—no, fuck that—it would take all of his life's plans, place them in a single file line, and kick each and every one of them in the balls. Repeatedly.

You see, Reid had no real father figure, so the one he looked up to when he was a kid was this image of an older version of him. Ever since he was a kid, he just knew that the man he was going to grow up to be… was great. Beyond great, he was incredible. This guy was suave, clever, good with the ladies… he was perfect. Most importantly, one day, he was going to be Reid. But then life happened. He got through high school too quickly, so he ran to college to give himself more time to mature. He promised himself he would be that man soon after. Then, he got his first Ph.D. at 17, and decided that he couldn't grow up just yet. It was all too early, everything was moving too fast. So, he went for a second one to pass the time. And a third. Why not? Then he was in his early twenties, scouted by the FBI. Although he was still quite taller, and shaved every morning, he was still that quiet, skinny, awkwardly brilliant kid that was waiting to grow up. Where was this suave, clever, good-with-the-ladies man that he had waited for all these years? Where was this perfect man that he saw himself becoming?

Then, one day, as a rolled up ball of paper hit him in the back of the head, he suddenly knew where this man was. He turned around and looked at Morgan, who smiled with a large grin, full of sass and wit.

It was him.

Fuck.

After a while, Reid decided, hey. He could live with that. So what if he was never going to become Morgan? He had his own shoes to fill, and as a resident genius in the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI, them shoes were pretty damn big. That doesn't mean that he's stopped looking up to that ubermench version of himself, no. He just wasn't aiming for that anymore. He wasn't aiming for anything anymore. All Reid wanted to do now was get married one day, maybe have a few kids, and do kick ass at his job.

That was working out swimmingly, when he'd "figured it all out". Roadblocks aside, he was getting better and better at his job. He hadn't fathered any children, yet, but he wanted to be married first before that. But one day—one day, he'll have it all. Right there on a fucking silver platter. Just… not today.

Then, it all got progressively worse. His life reverted back to college. He spent years of it buried in work, and pretending he didn't have a "future me" to forward to. Whatever goals he set for himself, he gave up on. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. At least, not until his proclaimed future persona decided to take an interest in him. Morgan worked beside him since day one, yeah. But, round about his third year in the Bureau, he'd noticed their friendship growing. Morgan and he were getting closer and closer. They would talk in the break room, slip each other case files, and even call on occasion. He wasn't sure when it started, but he'd felt pulled to Morgan. Maybe it was because Morgan was all Reid saw himself becoming, or… maybe it was something else. So what if his cheeks flared red when Morgan got to close, and so fucking what if he had a dream or… three about him? Or seventy nine? It was seventy nine counting the nap he had on the plane two days ago. But that's beside the point! Reid did not have a crush on Morgan. Reid does not have a crush on Morgan. Reid will never have a crush on Morgan. Take that past participle and stick it where the sun don't shine. Reid doesn't give a rat's ass. At least now, he knows why he was sorting those books…

The phone rang.

"Hey, Spencer. It's me again."

Fuck, it's him again.

"I'm sorry for calling so much…"

If you were really sorry, you wouldn't do it.

"But, I just need to talk to you…"

Well, bro, the Reid train has left the station.

"Just… give me a chance…"

If there was one chance left on Earth, Reid wouldn't waste it on you.

"Please talk to me…"

Stop begging, it's not cute. But damn, you would look hot on your knees… wait! Where did that come from? Penis, is Reid going to have to chastise you again? Stop sending shit to his brain.

"It's just… I'm falling for you…"

Really? How far?

"You're so beautiful…"

Lie #1.

"You're so gentle…"

Reid ran a hand through the stubble growing on his chin, thinking for a moment. Lie #2.

"You're so perfect…"

No, Morgan, you're the perfect one.

"Please call me…"

No, nien, niet.

"Please…"

Suck it, Morgan.

"…please…"

Reid pressed TALK, "Hello…"

A/N: Well, that was psychological. My brain hurts.

Accolades out to my constant reviewers!

-Nanily

-Srienia

-Noskillz

-Sharkbaitz17

-LoveforPenandDerek

Every time I see you guys wrote something, I smile. Thanks for being awesome and taking the time to click that blue button. I am writing this for you five. No, really. I am. I sit down and write every week just to see the reactions you give.

BlueOllz