I do not intend to return to it and continue it, ever. I do not remove it from the site, however, because for one, there's no shame in admitting that I didn't finish a story. It happens and seriously? It is a hobby, there are no obligations here, right? And another reason - I got a few very nice reviews for it and I want to keep them. They matter a lot to me.

At least now you don't have to continue reading, because now you know there's no solution.

I am truly sorry for never completing this story.

Summary: A case involving male-rape makes Reid wonder about his sexuality. In front of Morgan. And then they end up captured by a man who did not appear dangerous at all. Work in Progress.

Disclimer: Not mine. No profit gained.

Timeline: Pre-Seaosn One.

Pretty Boy - Chapter One

It's not that Reid doesn't like Morgan. However if he were to be honest he doesn't like him either. He'd want to say that he's indifferent about the older agent but the truth is he's apprehensive, disturbed and torn between awe and distrust.

Derek Morgan is a professional, that much was obvious to Reid after merely two weeks in the BAU and his opinion hasn't changed over the past five months. Funny, vivacious, flirtatious, sometimes a jerk, overconfident and with no respect for simple human boundaries - when on a case he changed into a focused machine who would never, not once, allow his emotions get the better of him. Oh, he was getting emotional, angry, aggressive - as opposite to Hotch or Gideon - but it always served a purpose, he was always in control. That's how Derek Morgan was while on the case.

Outside of the case though . . . Auch!

They are off-case now, at least by Derek Morgan's standards. They are driving to the club in downtown Pittsburgh where they hope to find Antonio Solano, nickname "Tank", who is associated with the robbery on 43rd Street which occurred a day before the third murder allotted to the same Unsub who raped and killed a week and - earlier - a month before. Raped and killed a man. Solano is probably a weak thread, and the Italian has no connection with the murders whatsoever - at least that's what Morgan said - but for Reid it seemed like more than a coincidence that the shopkeeper reported an attack by mafia and the next day he was killed. True, the murder didn't seem like a ritual execution mafia-style, it was disorganized and sloppy and with obvious sexual motive but Hotch agreed with the young Doctor that something was not right and sent the two men to the mafia nest.

Oh, joy.

Reid keeps thinking about Solano, about the murders and that they don't treat mafia as serial killers even though they most definitely are, and Morgan talks about how much he loves first warm days and that the heat makes all the girls take off long pants and show their naked legs and that it's sooo thrilling.

"Geeez, have you seen that, Reid?" he turns around and Spencer has to draw on all his willpower not to grab the wheel while the driver has his eyes averted from the street and the traffic at no less than 60mph. "Gorgeous babe."

Spencer is tempted to tell Morgan that he's gay. It's not like he is. Sometimes he thinks he simply is asexual. Between all he knows and his logical thinking and eidetic memory combined with childhood and teenage years he'd rather not remember too often, he believes he lost the ability to physically as well as emotionally connect with anyone. It is funny however to imagine Morgan's reaction to such a disclosure. Would he bolt? Would he be shocked? Would he start avoiding Reid altogether? The latter might not be that bad. Unless it would interfere with the team cooperation which Reid cannot risk.

On top of that the current case doesn't really call for such revelations. Though maybe this is exactly why Reid thought of just that?

Morgan whistles and Reid rolls his eyes.

"Don't you just want to squeeze that momma," Mogan mutters in a voice which Reid interprets as lustful and that does it.

"I'm gay," Reid blurts and holds his breath. Damn! Could he turn back time, preferably now? Right now?


"What?" Morgan asks in a way only he does. Like he heard a blasphemy, like what's happening is absolutely impossible to happen. Like . . .

"I'm kidding," Reid tries to turn back time in the only way that is possible but he knows it's futile. He opened a can of worms.

Morgan turns to the street and traffic and his fingers thump some rhythm on the wheel. A moment later he says, "Sorry," and Reid is startled. It's not what he expected. At all.

It's not that he thinks Morgan is a homophobe although the truth is they'd never discussed that matter so far. Now, the way he reacted to the male-rape issue in their current case was kind-of telling. It was raw disgust, more evident than in other, oftentimes more gruesome cases and both Hotch and Reid had noticed it, no matter how much he tried to stay professional and not demonstrate it.

Maybe it's because he's such an alpha-male. He's tense now and Reid is certain that no explanations will ever change how he sees his younger colleague. He's certain that Morgan doesn't want a gay-Reid anywhere near him. At least he doesn't talk for the reminder of their drive but suddenly Reid misses his Chicago twang.

They park on an empty street, in front of the entrance shaded by a yellow awning. It's noon, it's hot and the place looks almost abandoned. When they come in, the bells ring and the tall skinny guy at the counter lifts his lazy, unfriendly eyes at them.

Morgan takes out his badge and Reid follows suit. Morgan slaps his on the couter, confidence oozing from every pore.

"FBI," he states, "We're looking for Antonio Solano." He overpronouces the name as if the barkeeper was hard of hearing.

The barkeeper clears some food-leftover from between his teeth, making a sucking sound and answers slowly, "We don't like your kind around here."

"Tough." Derek sits on a stool. "Soda. Please. Same for my man here."

While the barkeeper pours them soda, Reid hears a movement behind their backs. Derek doesn't make a move but Reid can't help himself and turns. A kid, maybe his age but of larger built, with huge dark doe eyes. He approaches them slowly.

"He your lover?" he asks, leaning on the counter inches away from Derek's left elbow.

Reid feels creeps crawl up his spine. Not good. Not good at all.

The bartender places two glasses of soda in front of Morgan and Reid.

Morgan turns to the intruder.

"Antonio Solano?" he asks, ignoring the implication about their relationship completely and Reid remembers why Morgan makes him awed. Focus. Focus on the case.

"Nope." The guy answers and eyes Morgan up and down. Licks his lips. "But I know where to find him."

"Then find him." Morgan commands and takes a sip of his soda, turning away from the doe-eyed guy.

Reid sees the guy's jaw working. It seems there's a battle going on inside, his eyes catch fire for a split second but then become doey again.

"What will you give me if I do?" he whispers and leans an inch closer.

Derek turns to him again, Reid hears a smirk in his voice, "We might think about lessening your time in exchange for cooperation."

"Not what I had in mind," the guy deadpans and his eyes are on fire again. He's so close to Morgan now, that he definitely crossed the personal space bubble but Morgan shows no signs of discomfort. Well, he does tend to cross other people's personal space often enough. But then the guy adds, "I like your kind, pretty boy." Reid could swear that he put a hand on Morgan's posterior too and then everything happens so quickly Reid can't really tell what happens.

Morgan's on his feet, he grabs the guy somehow, turns him, pushes him against the counter with his hand at an awkward angle and leans over him bodily. The barkeeper nearly plasters himself to the back wall of his realm, the cabinet filled with bottles and glasses, and a large mirror, picturing the whole interior of the pub. Reid gapes at Morgan's reflection.

"Where is Solano?" Morgan seeths.

"You like to take men from the back," the guy breathes out. "And you like to top. That will be a problem because I like to top too but we can work on that." His ass moves as he speaks and Reid can see they guy is steering for Morgan's groin.

Morgan never lets his emotions take the better of him while on the case, Reid thinks but here he sees it, he sees how Morgan's face changes, his eyes narrow, his teeth bare. He pulls the doe-eyed guy away from the counter and throws him across the room. The force makes the guy crash into a table, chairs flying, and he falls to the floor with a crack and a thud. Before Morgan is on him again he screams, "Get'im!" and Morgan is stopped a second before he would maybe-possibly smash the guy's head against the floor.

He's pulled away by two beefy bodyguards and Reid feels he's being grabbed as well, searched and his gun and badge are being taken away.

Morgan doesn't fight the men. Reid can see his focused and controlled persona returning and taking over again, while the doe-eyed is aiming a gun at him.

"I'll have your ass," he seeths, his hand shaking.

"You won't pull the trigger," Morgan responds clearly and authoritatively. "You don't want to be in more trouble than you already are. Attacking two FBI agents? Not going to look well in your dossier."

"I don't want to pull the trigger." They guy clicks the safety back on and lowers the gun. "I told you - I want your ass." He takes a step closer, then another. "I like your kind." He's chest to chest with Morgan and he's only half a head shorter, "Be honest, boy," he whispers, "You want it too."