Song for this chapter: My World~ Sick Puppies
Hotch called a babysitter for Jack and stayed over at Morgan's that night, not wanting him to be alone. Morgan was too shattered to argue. He was on the couch pretending to sleep when Garcia dropped off Hotch's spare go-bag around midnight.
"How is he?" he heard her whisper out in the hall. Hotch's voice was too low-pitched for his ears to catch his reply beyond "Murr muur mrrmrmr resting, mrrrmrrr mr mrrr mrrr tomorrow."
"Okay. Is it true what JJ said? Has Reid really resigned?"
There was a grumble in the affirmative.
"Because of me?" she asked emotionally.
Yes. Morgan thought spitefully.
"You humhurr yourself. The situation murr mrm hurr already. Murr murr you were murr hoomur mrrhng mruh help." Hotch mumbled comfortingly.
His ears got tired at this point, and he was still too angry to listen to her whining about how guilty she felt, so he let himself doze until Hotch came back into the room. He cracked his eyes open and watched Hotch as he got changed into bed clothes while simultaneously emailing people from his phone. Morgan guessed he had a lot of extra stuff to sort out since Reid wouldn't be able to work out his notice.
Hotch brushed his teeth and went to Morgan's room to get his pillow and quilt and an extra blanket for himself. He put the quilt over Morgan and nudged his arm to rouse him enough to lift his head, then slipped the pillow underneath it. Morgan mumbled thanks, feeling like a little kid, and Hotch sat down in the armchair next to him in a grey-blue T-shirt and loose blue cotton shorts and started typing on his laptop. He watched Hotch for a long time, finding it strange seeing the older man out of a suit (and in his apartment).
The dim lighting and the sound of typing made him feel a strange, shallow level of calm, like being in the eye of a storm. The horrible feelings were still there but it was like they were muted or on hold. After a while Hotch looked up and saw that Morgan was awake.
"Hey." He said. "Am I disturbing you?"
Morgan shook his head. "What're you doing?" he asked quietly.
"Just finishing some things I was meant to work on for tomorrow." Hotch said. "I won't enter Reid's resignation onto the system yet, I'm going to leave it for a few days in case he changes his mind once he's had a chance to think about it."
"So you think he'll be back pretty soon?" Morgan asked hopefully, propping himself up on his elbows.
Hotch hesitated for a second, then sighed. "I really wish I could say yes Derek. But I think Reid knows what he's doing. He's not exactly the type to make rash decisions without thinking it through. I wouldn't get my hopes up."
The hurt came back again, throbbing in his head and squeezing around his chest and bringing a lump to his throat.
He shook his head firmly. "I think you're wrong. He'll be back soon. I know him. He was just telling me how he couldn't bear it if he had to leave us! This job is part of him. He can't run away from himself. He's going to realise that soon."
Hotch smiled sadly. "I hope you're right." He said.
Morgan nodded and looked up at the ceiling. "This is just a mistake. He was upset." He said.
Hotch didn't reply, since it was quite clear to both of them at this point that he wasn't the one Morgan was trying to convince anymore. They didn't speak again after that. Morgan lay there awake most of the night, long after Hotch dozed off in his chair with his hand propping up his chin and his elbow on the arm.
...
The next morning Hotch had to go to work, but he called Young to come and look after Morgan. Morgan was still on the couch wrapped in his quilt watching TV when Young rang the doorbell.
He heaved himself onto his feet and opened the door.
"Hey." Young greeted him gently.
Morgan stood back and jerked his head in a way that meant 'come in.' Young did so, and Morgan went to the kitchen to make them both a coffee. Young followed him and sat on one of the counters.
Morgan got part way through scooping the coffee into the machine before he felt an overwhelming sense of absurd pointlessness in going through the motions of normal activity for Young's benefit. He felt like a tree which had just been uprooted and ripped from the earth, and Young knew perfectly well that that was how he felt. He probably didn't even want the damned coffee, only let Morgan carry out this stupid meaningless task because he wanted him to deal with it however he felt was best. He hated that so much. He stopped what he was doing.
Young cocked his head to one side. "You okay?"
"I don't want this." Morgan muttered.
"The coffee?"
Morgan grimaced and shook his head and pressed the heels of his hands against his temples.
"I just…I can't believe he'd just go like that without talking to me about it, without talking to anyone. Not even a phone call! A text! Just to let me know he's okay! I know I should be more worried about his mental state and his safety, and I am worried. I'm scared as hell something will happen and I'll never see him again. But…" his voice died to a whisper and he looked down at the floor. "…all I keep thinking is how could he leave me?"
"I don't think…that it's a decision he would have come to lightly." Young said carefully. He took his ball out of his pocket and rolled it around in his hands. "What happened exactly? I'm a little sketchy on the details."
Morgan folded his arms and leant back on the counter.
"Prentiss, JJ and Garcia got hold of the video camera from the Faraday case, and they retrieved the deleted footage of what happened. Me and Reid walked in as they were playing it. Reid totally freaked out and ran away."
"Yeah that's the version Hotch gave me." Young said. "I get the feeling there's more to it though. Like why you and Reid were in the office so late."
Morgan hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "He came to me and we talked about his condition, what it would mean for him if he got the diagnosis. He got upset, thinking he'd be kicked out of the FBI. He thought he'd get phased out of our lives as well." He was silent for a few moments before finally admitting, "I kissed him." He looked down, the pain evident on his face.
Young waited.
"He…he said he wanted to come back to mine." Morgan said, with difficulty as he couldn't seem to breathe properly. "That's where we were going before we looked in on Garcia."
Young clunked his head back against a wall-mounted cupboard and looked up at the ceiling for a second.
"I'm so sorry." He said softly.
Morgan was too worked up to question why Young was apologising.
"You see what I mean now though right? How could he leave without telling me when we'd just started something? Didn't it even occur to him how that would make me feel?" he said heatedly.
"Of course it did." Young said matter-of-factly, looking down. "Even disregarding the fact that the kid was head over heels in love with you, you were like family to him. He would never abandon you unless he was absolutely desperate."
"But we were supposed to stick together!" Morgan said. "I woulda helped him through anything. I would have even gone with him if he'd asked!"
"Maybe he doesn't want you to help him." Young said. "Maybe he feels that being alone is the easiest way to work through his emotions, and he probably knew that if he went to you and tried to tell you that, he'd never be able to go through with it. Either you'd talk him out of it, or he'd talk himself out of it because leaving you was too hard."
"He hates being alone!" Morgan snapped. "He's going to be miserable without his family around him, just because he's too stubborn to accept that he can't run away from what happened, because getting away from the people who know about it won't make it any less real."
"You really think he's being stubborn?" Young asked, raising his eyebrows.
Morgan was speechless for a moment. Then he covered his face with his hands and let out a frustrated growl.
"No. Of course not." he sighed. "I understand how he feels. Better than anybody. Better than him. I've been through this before, and I so wanted to make it not true. I kept that secret…festering in my heart my whole life, I let him do it to God knows how many kids, just so I could pretend he didn't…pretend I didn't…do those things with him. I didn't mean to sound heartless. It's just…"
"Yeah I know." Young nodded. "That's why I corrected you. Don't beat yourself up about it. Misplaced or irrational anger is normal in a situation like this. You heard of the five stages of grief right? Denial, anger, depression, bargaining and acceptance?"
"Reid isn't dead." Morgan pointed out.
"For all intents and purposes he is. The prolonged absence of a loved one produces the same feelings as a death. It's still a grieving process."
Morgan shook his head. "You make it sound like he's not coming back."
Young hesitated. "I didn't mean to imply that. Sorry. Out of interest how long were you thinking he'd be gone?"
"I don't know, a week? A month?" Morgan said, distressed again. "Why? How long did you think it'd be?"
"Hard to say." Young said uncomfortably. "But he resigned from his job. That seems to suggest he needs more time to fix himself than compassionate leave can supply."
Morgan hadn't thought of that. He gripped the edge of the counter behind him.
"Wait…so before was your reaction to thinking he'd be gone for a week?" Young asked.
Morgan shrugged.
Young raised his eyebrows. "I hate to say this but perhaps this is a good thing for you. You need to be able to function as an individual. Letting your entire happiness depend on one person is like putting all your eggs in one basket, except instead of a basket you're putting them right on the edge of a skyscraper. In the middle of an earthquake."
There was a short silence. Young looked slightly wary, expecting Morgan to get angry and defensive. But that didn't happen.
"I know." Morgan said finally in a tired voice. "I know that it's not healthy. I've been fixated on him for so long, it's almost an obsession. I wish I understood why, but sometimes…I think…that I'd rather not know."
Young raised his eyebrows. "I'm surprised you recognised it. People in love are usually the least psychologically self-aware." He crossed his feet, swinging his legs a little. "It's especially brave of you to admit that by the way. You're going to need that bravery a lot if we're going to fix you."
Morgan gave a weak smile. "I'm not sure how that's brave. But thanks I guess."
"I have a theory by the way. About why you're so passionately obsessed with Reid. And it's nothing creepy or sinister, don't worry. Would you like to hear it?"
Morgan shrugged. "Shoot."
"There are two contributing factors. Firstly, his innocence attracts you because your formative sexual experience was that of being controlled and dominated and betrayed by a person you trusted and admired. It also stuck the idea in your mind of sex being something shameful and unhealthy. The fact that Reid lived his life totally separate from any sexual impulse was something you envied and idealised."
Morgan grimaced and nodded. "Right." He said, feeling ashamed. "And the second factor?"
"You also happen to be in love with him." Young stated, chuckling.
"You think…genuinely?" Morgan asked anxiously. "This isn't just some kind of twisted Madonna and the Whore Complex?"
"If it were just that then you would have lost your affection and respect for him when he showed sexual interest in you." Young pointed out. "Did you?"
Morgan hesitated. "No." he said finally. "If anything it made me love him even more, that he was willing to try an intimate relationship with me when it makes him so uncomfortable. But I felt something. In my gut. I felt…uneasy. That's why I refused him initially."
"Interesting." Young said. "What do you think you were feeling?"
Morgan shrugged. "I don't know exactly. I just felt that it would be wrong of me to let it happen."
"Because of what we discussed? That Reid could be confused about his sexuality because of the rape?"
"Yeah. I was scared he'd end up regretting it. But he told me over and over that he wasn't confused, that he didn't feel pressured."
"Did you believe him?"
"I did at the time. Or I wanted to. But then he left…and now I'm starting to think…like maybe he realised he made a mistake. When he saw that video maybe it clarified it for him, and he realised he could never love somebody who…who did that to him." Morgan looked down and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "And I know you're going to tell me it's not my fault, and Reid doesn't blame me, but there's something you don't know."
"What is it?"
"The night you locked us in together and we got into that fight, he said something…" Morgan frowned.
"What?" Young prompted when he didn't continue.
"Sorry it's just…it's hard to um…hard to talk about it." Morgan shifted uncomfortably. "He said…about how Eric told me to…um…to fuck him? And that I did it. Fucked him I mean. And you shoulda heard him y'know? It was like he hated me for it. I asked him if he believed me that I had to do it but he didn't reply. And later on he told me he didn't mean it, that he didn't blame me, he was just drunk and angry and he wanted to hurt me. So I let it go. But now I'm thinking…what if that was the only time he's ever been honest with me? With himself? What if he only realised when he saw that video, that secretly he blames me?"
Young thought for a moment.
"I think Reid has probably been feeling a lot of things lately. Feelings aren't always rational." He replied finally, in a cautious tone.
Morgan nodded, clenching his jaw.
"But I also think it's probably very unhelpful to speculate on what Reid is feeling." Young said.
There was a long silence.
"I don't think it was that." Morgan frowned.
"Come again?" Young asked.
"The bad feeling I had about us having sex. I almost wanted to think it was because I was taking advantage of Reid's vulnerability that it felt wrong, because that would be simpler and easier to fix. I can't explain why…I just…I feel like the reasons I came up with were too weak for such a strong feeling. They were more like excuses I made to justify the feeling that was already there. Does that make any sense at all?" He asked.
Young nodded. "It does. I got the same impression, that the feeling you had was deeper than just wanting to protect Reid from the regret and to protect yourself from rejection. Like it was more to do with you and your core beliefs about sex where love is involved."
"You think that because I associate sex with the shame of being abused…that I can't have sex with somebody I'm in love with without feeling guilty?" Morgan tried to follow the psychologist's reasoning.
"Seems that way. Wow, best excuse for not calling a girl afterwards I've ever heard." Young laughed.
Morgan smiled.
"Hey look at that!" Young grinned. "Your facial muscles still work when Reid isn't present."
Morgan smiled again and shook his head.
Young continued, "But going back to the point I just made, I don't think that the abuse is the whole story for what you're going through right now, I think it's tied together with a whole lot of other crap, past and present, that we need to untangle. And I want you to know that I don't think you'll always have that guilt, I think that's something I can help you resolve."
Morgan looked down. "That's great but uh…I don't know if I have it in me to untangle anything right now. I feel so…" it was a while before he could finish the sentence. "…like something really, really bad is about to come crashing down on my shoulders, y'know? And I can't stop it and I can't get out of the way." He turned to look out of the window, so he had his back to Young. "I think maybe Hotch was right. I've been ignoring everything for so long…and I didn't even realise that that's what I was doing. I don't know how to face this. Any of it. And I'm so, so angry, I feel like..." he stopped. "Ugh. This isn't helping. I'm just whining now. I'm sorry. I swear I've never used the phrase 'and I feel like' so much in my whole life."
"Which is a perfect example of why you're so emotionally crippled right now." Young pointed out.
"Thanks." Morgan said with a wry smile.
"You're welcome." Young said. "Have you eaten?"
Morgan shook his head.
Young hopped off the counter, went to his fridge and opened it. He made a 'hmmm' noise and then a tutting noise, like a world class chef unhappy with his ingredients.
"It's okay. I normally just have cereal or something." Morgan said, wary of letting Young loose in his kitchen.
"Well normally your best friend hasn't just walked out on you." Young said cheerfully.
"I'd really rather just…I don't know. Sit down with a coffee and talk some more." Morgan admitted.
Young started melting butter in a pan.
Morgan continued. "I just wish I could have seen him one last time before he went. Not even to stop him, just…so I could say goodbye, so I could ask him if he was ever coming back, and ask him if he needed anything. So I could have seen for myself what kind of state he was in when he decided to go. All the uncertainty and 'what if's are doing my head in. What if I'd run out and caught him straight away, what if I'd shaken Hotch and the guard sooner? What if I'd-"
"-You know, actually I think what you need now is a distraction." Young said quickly. "Talking about that again isn't going to help. You need to accept that you can't change what happened."
Morgan looked taken aback. "I guess." He said numbly. It hit him all over again that Reid was really gone.
While he was silent Young poured oil into a frying pan and heated it up, cracked eggs into the food processor and poured milk, melted butter, flour, baking powder, salt, sugar and a few drops of vanilla essence into it as well. He then poured the mixture into three small blobs on the pan and turned the pan so the handle was facing Morgan, and then let go of it, indicating that he should take over flipping duty.
Morgan was still too consumed with apathy to protest, so he took the pan and the spatula and turned the pancakes after around a minute. Meanwhile Young had found a container of blueberries and raspberries in the fridge and emptied them into a saucepan. Morgan watched with interest as he coated the berries in sugar and turned up the heat.
"What are you doing to those poor berries?" he asked.
"I am making a compote. Maple syrup is far too pedestrian for a man of my taste." Young said snootily, ostentatiously tasting his concoction off the spoon. He looked at Morgan who had raised his eyebrows. "What? You didn't think I could cook?"
Morgan shrugged. "No, not really."
"Well get out of my way and allow me to prove you wrong." Young glared.
He elbowed Morgan out the way, tipped the pancakes onto a plate and poured the compote on top. He squirted it with whipped cream from a can, then placed the dish on the table and rifled through Morgan's drawers to find him a knife and fork.
Morgan sat down and started eating. It was pretty good. Very good actually.
"Admit it. That is the finest plate of pancakes you have ever had the privilege to taste." Young said smugly, sitting down opposite him.
Morgan nodded. Then he frowned.
"What is this?"
"I told you, it's a compote." Young said innocently.
"Not the fruit, this." Morgan put his knife and fork down. "You, making me breakfast, trying to distract me from how I'm feeling when you normally whack me over the head with reality and refuse to let me ignore it. It's all wrong."
"Sheesh. Ever heard of not looking a gift horse in the mouth?" Young muttered.
"Why? Why have you done this?" Morgan snapped.
Young was silent for a moment, looking uncomfortable.
"Because I think you may be initially upset when you hear what I'm about to tell you." He admitted. "But I hope you'll come to see things from my perspective and realise that I really had no choice in the matter."
"What?" Morgan narrowed his eyes.
"When you said it wasn't like Reid to leave without telling anyone…well Reid didn't exactly leave without telling anyone." Young said meaningfully.
There was a heavy silence.
"He came to you?" Morgan asked quietly.
"Yeah." Young looked down at the table. "He came to my house."
"And you just let him leave? Without even trying to convince him to stay!?" Morgan slammed his hand down onto the table, making the silverware rattle.
"I talked it through with him, I saw that he had made an informed and rational decision, and though it was difficult to see him go, I didn't feel that it was my place to interfere with-"
"Bullshit!" Morgan spat. "You meddle with things that aren't your place all the fucking time! If you weren't willing to talk some sense into him then you should have at least called me so I could!"
"He came to see me in the capacity of patient and doctor. He asked me not to tell you until he was free and clean away. He has the right to confidentiality, just like you would if the situation was the other way round." Young explained, but Morgan wasn't in the mood to hear it.
"I've just spent the past half hour spilling my fucking guts out to you, you lying motherfucking son of a bitch!" Morgan yelled in his face, picking up the pancakes and throwing them at him. "HOW COULD YOU LET ME DO THAT, AND THEN JUST CASUALLY DROP INTO THE CONVERSATION, 'OH AND BY THE WAY I JUST SCREWED YOUR ASS TO HELL'?"
Young looked wrong footed, and there was pancake stuck to his hair in a way that they both would have found hilarious had the situation not suddenly become the opposite of funny.
"You needed to talk…I was trying to help. I'm sorry, I should have come clean straight away."
"You think!?" Morgan asked sarcastically.
Young looked upset. "I'm sorry."
"I trusted you!" Morgan laughed bitterly. "Reid told me what you were like but I so needed somebody to help me. And like an idiot I let myself believe you could be that person."
Young opened his mouth but Morgan wouldn't let him speak.
"Do you know how hard that is, to trust somebody with all the dark, fucked up shit in your head!? But you got me to do it anyway didn't you? Well congratulations man, you win! I fell for it. I really thought we were friends. But I guess you'd have told me anything, kept anything from me to get me to talk, wouldn't you? All so you could prove to everybody what a smart, special little clever-clogs you are before you kick me to the curb just like Prentiss!" he said venomously.
"Please Derek, I would never-"
"Get out." Morgan said sourly.
Young didn't move. "Look, I made a mistake! I really didn't think you'd be so mad about-"
"Get the fuck out of here now, or I am going to ram the rest of your fucking pancakes down your throat." Morgan stated matter-of-factly. Young held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
"Oh, and since I'm apparently also entitled to this wonderful patient confidentiality, you are to tell Hotch nothing of the conversation we just had. You will tell nobody anything about what I am feeling. Anybody asks, you stayed with me all day and we talked and you guided me expertly through the grieving process and now I am fine. Absolutely fine and fucking dandy, you understand?" Morgan said aggressively.
Young clenched his jaw and nodded. He walked to the front door and just before he closed it behind him he turned and said sarcastically;
"Derek Morgan denying his feelings and pushing away the people who try to help him. My goodness what a plot twist. Never saw that coming."
"Go fuck yourself." Was his reply.
...
The silence after Young left was crushing. Desperation crept up on him slowly until he could hardly breathe.
He decided to go for a work out in the hope it might reduce his stress. His apartment complex had a small crappy-but-cheap gym which was really just a small room with an old weight bench and treadmill. He ran on the treadmill and lifted weights to try to burn off his anger, until he was exhausted and his muscles burned. It took a pretty long time since he was very fit, so it was past midday by the time he'd tired himself out, and he was soaked in sweat.
The endorphins helped calm him down for a while, but they quickly faded.
He wanted to get out of his apartment, but he didn't know where to go. He took a shower, shaved and put on deodorant. He changed into a soft long-sleeved black T-shirt and some tight washed out jeans with a black leather jacket and some mirrored sunglasses (his tall, dark and mysterious FBI agent outfit). He grabbed his keys and his phone and his wallet and left his apartment building.
The feeling of fear still clung to him when he was outside in the busy street. He started walking mainly to avoid the people who were bumping into him. He caught sight of a liquor store and his feet carried him inside. He grabbed a litre bottle of Jack Daniels and paid the cashier.
He found a dry bench in a rare patch of winter sun. It struck him suddenly looking at the window displays of the shops, that there was only a week left until Christmas. He always went to visit his Mom and sisters on Christmas day, but it would be the first Christmas BAU dinner party in five years he would spend not sitting next to Reid.
That had always been the part of Christmas he'd looked forward to the most. That and giving Reid his present, seeing him look so surprised and delighted every time that Morgan had given him such a personalised, thoughtful gift (usually bought several months in advance). Reid got very excited about Christmas (almost as excited as Garcia) and was eager to join in every party, event or tradition he could, often talking their ears off about the history of various Christmas customs. It was very cute, kind of like he was a little kid again, Morgan guessed because when he was a kid he'd spent so many Christmases reading in his room, or with just his mother, who wasn't well enough to make it special for him. It made Morgan feel so happy and warm and Christmassy seeing Reid take so much joy from the occasion.
He kicked at a patch of half-melted snow in front of the bench. If he couldn't spend Christmas with Reid he didn't want Christmas to come at all. He wished he could just hide until it was all over. He wished he didn't exist.
He unscrewed the lid of the bottle and took a large gulp. It burned down his throat and made him feel a little light headed and queasy since he hadn't eaten anything yet. But it did its job. The gnawing, restless anxiety and fear went away, to be replaced with depression, sorrow and self-pity. He walked around getting drunker and drunker, wishing the bars would open so he wouldn't look so much like an alcoholic.
At around 2 pm he wanted something to eat, so he headed to the closest restaurant and walked inside.
"Table for one please." He said to the maître-d, a chubby young man with receding, wispy ginger hair.
He saw the half empty bottle of JD in Morgan's hand and puffed up self-importantly.
"I'm thorry thir you can't dwink that in here." He spoke with a lisp and mispronounced his 'r's.
"Excuse me?" Morgan raised an eyebrow and squared his shoulders.
"Cuthtomers can't drink beverages purchathed outthide the pwemises."
"Really?" Morgan asked in amusement, unscrewing the top and taking a swig. "Oops, looks like I just did."
"Sir, are you dwunk?" the guy played what he obviously believed to be his trump card given the smug look of superiority on his piggy little face, obviously expecting Morgan to be shamed by the accusation.
Morgan just laughed and decided to embrace his drunkenness. He gave an exaggerated shrug. "Oh man you are a smart fellow aren't you? What an excellent deduction. Yes I am drunk, and I would be getting even drunker on your finest ale if it weren't for your perplexing attempts to discourage me from entering this good establishment. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't there a famous saying in your trade, that 'the customer is always right?'"
"I think you should go home and thober up now." The man said, blushing and getting flustered as he realised that his grasp on the situation was tenuous at best, and that if Morgan really wanted to enter the restaurant there wasn't much he could do about it.
Morgan knew the guy was only trying to do his job, that he was being ridiculous and he should just get rid of the stupid bottle which he didn't even want any more. But suddenly he was fired up and angry again, and the prospect of conflict excited him.
So that was how he found himself arguing eloquently with this officious little twat for five minutes about why it was his civil right to drink his own damn Jack wherever he damn well pleased. He even cited his constitutional rights at one point. Some of the customers turned to watch, some looking appalled, most looking amused and some looking like they wanted to cheer him on. He played up to the audience with dramatic hand gestures and a passionate motivational tone of voice, suddenly a revolutionary trying to drum up support for his noble cause.
The man looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel and threatened to call the police and Morgan laughed even harder and was stupidly about to pull out his FBI badge (and probably ruin his career) when a vaguely familiar looking tall blonde guy came over to see what was going on.
"It's okay Damian, I got this." He said pleasantly, patting him on the back. Damian scowled and trotted back to lurk behind his reservations desk.
"Derek Morgan right?" the man said with a charming smile, holding out a hand. He had nice blue eyes. "Sean. Sean Hotchner, Aaron's brother. I think we met briefly once when I visited him?"
Morgan shook his hand. Now he remembered. This was 'Gorgeous Sean' the man who had breezed in and out of the office in fifteen minutes to visit his brother and had lit a fire in the loins of every single woman in the place. He'd even briefly managed to entice Garcia's attention away from Morgan. Not that he could blame her, he thought with a smile. To tell the truth he himself had had a little imaginary playtime with Sean in the shower for a few times after.
"Yeah I remember. Hey, how's it going? I thought you worked in New York now?" he said, flashing Sean a rather dashing smile of his own.
"Yeah I did for a couple of years, loved it there. But six months ago I got offered a position here as head chef and I couldn't turn down a promotion like that."
"That's great!" Morgan said. "Congratulations man."
"Yeah, thank you." Sean smiled. "Here, come have a drink with me. I could use the company."
"I think I've drunk a little too much to be honest with you." Morgan admitted.
"Oh dear." Sean laughed sympathetically. "Well I'm technically not working today so come into the kitchen and I'll get you a coffee, and then let me see what I can rustle up for you in terms of some lunch. Sound alright?"
"Sounds fantastic." Morgan nodded. "Thanks Sean."
He followed the chef to a small corner of the frantic, busy kitchen. As promised Sean made him coffee and a spinach, goats cheese and walnut risotto. Although it wasn't the kind of thing he normally ordered, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed Sean's company as well. It let him temporarily block out how much he missed Reid.
"So how come you're not working today?" he asked.
Sean gave an awkward smile. "I uh…I'm meant to be on my honeymoon."
Morgan raised his eyebrows. "Oh man I'm sorry! What happened?"
"I don't know. She changed her mind the night before the wedding. She called me up and said she didn't love me anymore." Sean said, sounding depressed. He made an obvious effort to lighten the mood, "So why are you drunk at three in the afternoon and shouting at my waiters instead of tackling the city's crime rates? Have you had your heart broken too?" he asked with a teasing smile. He had dimples in his cheeks when he smiled.
Morgan gave an awkward smile. "Actually yes."
Sean looked embarrassed, "Oh, sorry." He smiled. "Well you've come to the right place."
He reached up and picked a bottle wine off the shelf, and poured them both a glass.
"I certainly have." Morgan laughed. Just one glass. He thought. I'm not really that drunk anyway.
"So. Tell me what happened." Sean said. "We can commiserate each other, two spurned lovers together."
"Ah. Well. There's this guy…" Morgan said, eyeing Sean to see how he'd react. "From work."
Sean raised his eyebrows a little, and his gaze dropped away from Morgan's. Morgan noticed a slight colouring to his cheeks, but apart from this he seemed to take the revelation in his stride.
"Go on." He said, and topped up Morgan's glass.
And that's how he found himself spilling his love life out to a guy he barely knew, though of course he skipped past the detail of why Reid left. Sean was so understanding and easy to talk to. He somehow managed to say all the right things, made him feel better about himself just for a while. They sat down with the bottle of wine and when they finished it Sean casually invited him over to his place to watch a movie he'd been talking about which Morgan hadn't seen. He forgot the title but readily accepted the invitation, he was having such a good time that he probably would have gone anywhere to keep Sean there, making everything okay with wine and sympathy and subtly grazing his hand against Morgan's when he passed him the bottle, maybe accidentally but maybe not.
Sean's apartment was clean and minimalistic in its décor, his taste very similar to Morgan's. They never watched the movie. They sat side by side on the couch drinking and talking and as Sean got drunker he started to relax and get more confident.
"I think Reid is nuts for letting go of a great guy like you." He said to Morgan warmly. They were both slumped with their heads resting on the back of the couch, looking at each other with silly intoxicated smiles. Sean kept looking at his mouth. Morgan knew it was a terrible idea for him to stay when he was drunk and vulnerable to bad decisions, but he was so angry. With Reid, with the world, with everyone. Except Sean. Sean was on his side. Sean thought he was a great guy.
Morgan shifted position so his arm rested on the back of the couch, his hand resting just above Sean's head.
"Yeah? Well I think your girlfriend will be kicking herself when she realises what a mistake it was to let you go." He pointed at Sean's chest on the word 'you.'
Sean laughed. "I don't care anymore. She's a…a bitch." He said the word 'bitch' tentatively, like he was unused to saying it, and didn't really mean it. "She slept with my best friend." He said weakly, his blue eyes suddenly sad. "She told me she was sorry…and I believed her. But it hurt so much, whenever I saw them I couldn't stop thinking about it."
Morgan smiled at him comfortingly. "She didn't deserve you, man. You're better off without her."
Sean nodded and looked up at him with a grateful smile. Then he said something which caught Morgan by surprise.
"Did Aaron ever tell you I'm bisexual?"
"No." Morgan raised his eyebrows.
"I suppose that's not surprising knowing him." Sean laughed. "He doesn't talk much about his personal life does he? He probably doesn't even remember actually. I came out to my whole family when I was fourteen, as soon as I realised, and to my fiancée –we were childhood sweethearts back then. But since I had already found the one, and she was a woman, nobody seemed to care. I know I shouldn't be bothered by that, but I am a bit. It was a bit of an anti-climax to my coming out story y'know? I feel like I can't be taken seriously as a gay man if I've never had to bravely fight for acceptance. Like I'm denied membership to gay club." He chuckled at his own analogy.
Morgan smiled. "Yeah I get that."
There was a short silence.
"So you've never been with a guy?" Morgan asked softly, with a little smile.
Sean shook his head. "I've never been with anybody except her."
Morgan traced Sean's leg with his fingers softly.
"Well then…this seems like the perfect opportunity for you to try something a little different." He said seductively. Hating himself. Hating that he needed this so much.
Sean smiled and put his and Morgan's glasses down on the glass coffee table. Then he shifted closer to Morgan and kissed him slowly and almost carefully, moving his lips delicately, placing his right hand on Morgan's far shoulder and stroking it up to rest on his neck.
Morgan was nearly overwhelmed by guilt and shame. Reid hadn't been gone a day yet and here he was jumping into bed with the first man who asked. But the guilt faded as Morgan held Sean against him tighter and tighter and their breathing got heavier and the leather couch creaked as if moaning its own arousal, a lonely voyeur beneath them.
Morgan pushed Sean onto his back and kissed him harder and Sean moved his legs apart to make room for him. He was being so sweet and submissive, obviously assuming without discussion that Morgan would be pitching and that he would be catching. Morgan's chest tightened unpleasantly at the thought and he stopped.
"What's wrong?" Sean asked gently, stroking his chest.
Morgan closed his eyes. "I'm okay…I just…"
"You're thinking about Reid?" Sean's eyes were sympathetic and knowing.
Morgan shook his head. He pushed his hard-on into Sean's hip. "I'm only thinking about getting your big dick up my ass." He murmured in Sean's ear, hating himself.
Sean blushed. "Oh…" he said, sounding bemused.
Morgan raised his eyebrows.
"I just…kind of assumed it would be the other way around." Sean admitted.
"You're not disappointed are you?"
"God no! I don't mind who puts what where as long as I get to have you." Sean said huskily, kissing him frantically. "Besides," he said pulling back with a lascivious grin. "We've got all night. I'm sure we can go both ways. That is if you can keep up with me." He said mischievously.
Morgan forced a smile to try and hide his anxiety. He kissed Sean with even more determination, pulling his shirt off and dropping it onto the floor. Sean's body was fantastic. He had a natural even tan and although he wasn't muscular like Morgan he was toned in all the right places, had broad shoulders and chest which tapered into a narrower waist. Morgan kissed his chest and brushed his thumbs over his nipples. Sean chuckled and squirmed.
"Oh God don't. I've always been sensitive there." He said. Morgan grinned and flicked his tongue over one and Sean laughed again. "Ohh you son of a-mphhh" Morgan cut him off midsentence with a kiss and got to work on his pants. "No," Sean pushed his hands away but Morgan thought he was playing and kept on trying. "Seriously Derek wait…I need to get the...erm…protection. It's just in the bathroom I'll only be a minute." He said, blushing.
Morgan apologised and released him, feeling ashamed of himself for being so forceful. He just really didn't want Sean to leave the room even for a second, because then the guilt and the fear came back and he started to wonder what the hell he was doing with this lovely strange man in his apartment about to have sex with him, when he had no real feelings for him. When he should be thinking of his best friend, the man he loved.
Why was he like this? Why was he such a player who couldn't keep it in his pants for five minutes? Why couldn't he be like Reid? Or like Sean who had long term, committed, respectful relationships and didn't whore himself out to countless strangers all his adult life? What would Reid think of him if he knew what he was doing right now? He'd probably be disgusted and hurt and would thank his lucky stars that he escaped a relationship with such a damaged, sick individual. One who obviously wasn't really even capable of love.
By the time Sean came back he was sitting with his head in his hands trying to stave off a panic attack.
"What's wrong?" Sean asked, sitting down on the coffee table facing him and taking his hands in his own.
Morgan just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.
Great. I can't even do a sleazy one night stand right without ruining it.
"Please Derek, you can talk to me. I want to help. Tell me how I can help." Sean said.
Morgan looked up. He reached out, cupped a hand around the back of Sean's neck and jerked his head forward into a kiss. Sean looked surprised but went with it. Morgan released him after a few seconds, pressed their foreheads together, panting.
"You really want to help me?" asked Morgan, closing his eyes.
Sean nodded breathlessly.
"I need you to force me. Hold me down, be rough with me. Even hurt me a little. Please."
Sean looked at him anxiously.
"I know that sounds crazy but I want it. I want you to fuck me like you hate me." Morgan said, quietly and quickly.
Sean shook his head. "I can't."
"Why not?" Morgan sat back and looked away.
Sean looked bewildered. "Because how could I hate you?"
Morgan shook his head and looked at the floor. "You don't know me. You don't know what I've done."
"No I don't. But I do know that good people do bad things sometimes and that doesn't make them bad. It makes them human." Sean said.
Morgan rested his elbows on his knees and his hands on the back of his neck, staring at the carpet.
"I've ruined this. I'm so sorry." He said hollowly.
"Well luckily you're very hot, so I forgive you." Sean laughed. Morgan forced a chuckle.
He looked up into Sean's eyes.
"Can we just forget that the past five minutes where I acted like a total psychopath ever happened?"
Sean smiled. "I think I'm drunk enough to have a good crack at it." He said. "But you'll have to be extra good to me to make up for it." He said suggestively, standing up and leading Morgan to his bedroom.
Morgan knew that that was a joke but suddenly he really wanted to give this guy an amazing lay, because he sure as hell deserved one. So he shoved all his messy feelings to the back of his mind and concentrated on giving Sean pleasure.
In the end he penetrated Sean, because Sean really wanted to try it. He used about half a tube of lubricant and he was so paranoid about hurting him that he went extra slow, moving so cautiously that he got practically nothing from it, though he pretended he did so Sean wouldn't feel like he had to get him off another way. Sean was full of smiles afterwards and wanted to talk about it, how good it was, how different it was from what he'd been expecting and how glad he was he'd finally tried it. But Morgan could hardly look at him. He pretended he was sleepy and eventually Sean snuggled up to him and fell asleep.
Morgan got up and pulled on his boxers and sat on the couch in the other room. He put his head in his hands and tried to cry because he desperately needed to. But forcing it and doing it silently wasn't satisfying so he stopped and stared at the ceiling bleakly.
I'm so sorry Reid. You deserve better than this.
In the morning he was polite and gentle but he made it clear that he didn't want a relationship of any kind. Sean looked a little disappointed but agreed that he probably wasn't ready to date again yet either. He was still lovely to Morgan anyway, made him eggs benedict for breakfast and wished him luck when they said goodbye.
Morgan felt like the worst person in the world.
...
Hello! Sorry for the slight delay, I was in Germany at the weekend visiting a family friend who, when he hears: 'I like lazy afternoons on the internet' thinks: 'I will take her snowboarding in the Alps.' ALL DAY. =_=
Apologies for the upsettingness in chapter 28, and this chapter (...and more which are on the way), since Morgan is about to go majorly off the rails. Buuut this is an angst story so you kind of asked for it. xD I probably should have warned in the summary about the Morgan/Sean action but that was kind of a spur of the moment impulse. I just thought it would be cool.
A few comments were saying they can't see a happy ending for the two boys anymore and asking me whether I still plan to give them their walking off into the sunset moment one day. The answer is YES. YES. ALWAYS YES. I'm maybe being cruel to them at the moment but I will make them okay again if it kills me, do not worry folks. I got this.
I don't have time to do reviews today, please forgive me ): I adore everybody who reviews and would give you all my firstborn children if only my uterus could produce enough fetuses to go round. ^^