Author's Note: So it was going to be a one shot. Now it's a two-shot due to multiple requests, a suggestion from bella-chan16, and as a belated (by an hour and a half) birthday present to MarineLvr84! Thanks for all the love you guys ^.^
Warnings: Language and smut, folks. You've been warned.
Disclaimer: The original characters and any borrowed plot ideas belong to Mark Gordon Company, and the writers of Criminal Minds. And all the channels that run the episodes, I suppose.
At It All Night
Morgan tapped his foot against the side of his desk impatiently. Twice now. He was willing to let it go the first time, but two times… No. This had to stop. Reid had sheared off his golden brown locks. Again. That "boy band" look, as Hotch so aptly put it, was bad enough. It at least gave him something to hold on to when he was kissing the daylights out of the kid. Even when Reid put that shit in it. This, though, this was ridiculous.
He'd asked Reid not to come over for a while last night. After they'd finally caught that ass Billy Fl… Anyway, he'd told Reid he needed some time to himself. Reid's exact response:
"You have all the time in the world, Derek Morgan. Your Pretty Boy isn't going anywhere."
And that was why Morgan loved him.
But this morning, Morgan came into work and found that his Pretty Boy had indeed gone somewhere. The kid went to the goddamned barber. Again.
Morgan snarled softly. What was that? Two inches of hair? Two and a half? He should ask Reid; the kid would probably know precisely how long it was. Smartass.
None of that mattered, though. He had a plan. Alright, it wasn't really a plan. It was more like a decision to follow up on his previous promise. That tight little ass was going to get pounded. Hard. And not just on the next available surface. On every available surface. Morgan had some steam to blow off and the kid had pushed him over the limit. He'd have to take responsibility.
Reid glanced over at his sulking lover. The man was so easy to read.
He'd said he needed time to himself the other night. Reid was perfectly fine with that, it was understandable with what Morgan had gone through in the Flynn case. He could have all the space he needed, but only if he was going to use it constructively. Literally, if necessary. Reid recognized the cathartic nature of Morgan's side-business in contracting.
But he also knew Morgan. Knew him very well. One night was all the constructive distance he could handle. Starting tonight, Morgan would begin internalizing everything that went wrong. All the losses Ellie suffered… It was too much for a child to bare alone. It was also too much for a man to bare alone. And that was exactly what this stubborn man would attempt to do.
Reid had worked with Morgan long enough to realize that the closer he got to someone, the more reluctant he was to expose the individual in question to any amount of suffering. Even if it only turned out to be a painful or emotionally disturbing conversation. Morgan would never share the pain he was experiencing from that case with Reid, not of his own volition. No, Reid was going to have to be underhanded about it.
So that night, he'd gotten a haircut. It took all of his self control not to laugh aloud at the look on Morgan's face when he walked in that morning.
The first hack job he requested of his barber had been out of spite.
"I'm not sleeping with Reid."
Reid snorted softly. Chopping all those waves off when they got back from Alaska had certainly put paid to that outburst.
Morgan grumbled under his breath. The kid looked so damn smug. About what exactly? Morgan couldn't wait to wipe that little smirk off his face. Soon Reid would be panting in agonizing pleasure.
He'd decided months ago to forget that promise of being gentle with Reid. The kid could take it, and Lord knew he looked fucking gorgeous when he did. Back arched, panting and swearing, bucking his hips as Morgan fucked him.
Morgan took a deep breath. No erections allowed in the office. Anyway, he could tell from the soft smile lingering on Reid's lips as he came down from an orgasm that (in some twisted way) the rough treatment was as sweet to him as traditional "love-making." One more reason to love the younger man.
At some point, he needed to stop thinking it to himself and say those words out loud to the skinny white boy who, from time to time, was the only reason Morgan could walk back into this building and face the horrors of human nature day after day.
Someday soon. But first… That lack-of-a-mop on his head needed to be dealt with. It was practically military standard as far as Morgan was concerned. Unacceptable.
"Alright, that's it. I'm done. I'll see you guys way too early tomorrow morning." Prentiss lifted a hand in farewell as she headed out the door. Rossi had slipped out a little earlier. Hotch excused himself shortly after to pick Jack up from a friend's house. Garcia had some sort of RPG date planned. JJ was claiming some much needed time with William and Henry.
Reid gulped. Alone with Morgan. That had kind of been the goal, but now that it was time to man up… He was pretty nervous. It was short. Really short. And Morgan wasn't going to like that.
"Get your bag, Pretty Boy."
Warm breath ghosted over his ear and Reid whimpered softly. He was right to be nervous.
Morgan watched the slim hips sway as Reid proceeded him down the stairs. Watched him glance back over his shoulder every few steps. Morgan kept his expression blank. Not so smug anymore, hmm?
Reid shifted at the passenger door. Morgan slipped up behind him, knowing that on the security cameras it would just look like he was avoiding the car that had parked too close to the line.
"Get your ass in the car," Morgan hissed.
He smiled when Reid shuddered and nodded, climbing in quickly.
Reid tried to maintain some sort of conversation in the car. Morgan supplied monotone, monosyllable answers. Reid's ass was going to be so sore in the morning… And it would be more than worth it. Not just for the sex. He wanted to see the unrestrained smile that bled the essence of Derek Morgan again. It didn't have to be tomorrow, or the day after, or next week, or even next month. He just… It was selfish, but Reid wanted to be part of the reason why that smile spread across those kissable lips again.
So he braced himself and walked through the front door with Morgan close behind. His body shuddered in anticipation for…
Morgan greeted Clooney and felt his lips quirk when Reid's eyes flooded with shock. No instantaneous attack.
No, not this time. This time the kid was going to have to beg. Morgan opened his back door and to let Clooney out for a while, then turned back to Reid.
"I don't know about you, but I'm just too wired to sleep. How does a little TV sound?"
"Umm… Good, I guess."
Morgan picked up one of the Star Trek seasons that had made a new home on his coffee table. Season 2. "Pick a number between one and twenty-four."
"Seventeen, 'That Which Survives'."
"I don't know why I bother. I should just ask you to pick your favorite."
Reid's brow furrowed, clearly still a bit confused over the turn of events. "They're all my favorite. If you asked for that, we'd be at it all night."
Morgan stuck the DVD in the slot and dropped down smoothly on to the sofa. He controlled the coil of hunger burning in his groin. They were going to be at it all night, anyway.
Reid stared at the screen, not really seeing the pictures. He was going to be very upset if he cut his hair for nothing. It was his strongest trump card in the relationship and one he couldn't use very often. He only had so much hair.
Two glasses of wine each and two episodes of Star Trek gone. And all Morgan was doing was holding him against his chest. No teasing strokes. No tantalizing squeezes. Reid squirmed in his place. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't know where Morgan's mind was right now. Reid needed to know that it wasn't chasing the ghost of a dead man. During intercourse, he could say with 100% certainty that Morgan's thoughts were on him and him alone. Completely present and grounded… Maybe not always grounded, but always present.
"Morgan…" Reid shifted his ass against Morgan's groin again, trying in vain to elicit some sort of involuntary reaction from the quiet man. Nothing.
Damn it, Reid didn't have a backup plan if this fell through. With anyone else a bit of time, persistent reassurance, and support would be enough to eventually break the depressive cycle. Not with Morgan. He would eat it until someone forced him to vomit it back up. Like he did with Buford. And if Reid waited that long to handle this, the rift it caused would be just as wide. He and the team still hadn't finished replacing the rope bridge spanning the canyon that was Carl Buford in Morgan's life. Reid shifted again, this time in agitation.
Morgan gritted his teeth. If Reid didn't stop squirming soon, his plan was going to fall apart. "Are you uncomfortable, Pretty Boy?"
The slender body leaning against him froze, then Reid snuggled firmly back into his chest. "No."
Morgan smiled and kissed the top of his head. Maybe just a little teasing to get this going. He didn't want to spend the rest of the night waiting. He wanted to spend it fucking Reid till he cried.
He slipped the hand resting on Reid's hip beneath the hem of his shirt and started slowly stroking the curve of his hip bone. So bony and frail in appearance. Morgan was grateful the package belied the nature of its contents. He couldn't think of anything hotter than watching the fidgety doctor come apart at the seams just from two or three fingers buried in him. Morgan's fingers curled instinctively at the thought, dragging nails over the hollow at Reid's hip.
Reid trembled and closed his eyes tightly. If he didn't know Star Trek by heart, he wouldn't have any idea what was going on right now. The nails on his hip were driving him to distraction. He was doing everything in his limited power not to rush Morgan. If the problem was that he honestly wasn't emotionally ready for sex again yet, Reid would wait. This wasn't about pushing Morgan too far, it was about pulling him back on his feet.
But now Morgan's nails were drifting down beneath the hem of his slacks and…and…and something. Anything! Shit, his body was responding. Or nothing. Nothing was better than this. Because they were creeping closer and closer to the center of his abdomen and lower. Reid's steadily growing arousal twitched. Then Morgan's nails scraped down pale trail of hair leading to the to his groin and Reid gave up on trying to pretend immunity.
"Morgan, please…" he whimpered.
Morgan nearly groaned in relief. If the kid hadn't given in soon, his own desire was going to make itself known. "You need something, baby?" He kept his tone light and inquisitive. Morgan had no intention of letting Reid off easy this time. His fingers kept stroking slowly, occasionally tugging the soft hairs beneath them.
Reid wriggled and tried to work his hand lower down his stomach, but Morgan stilled his fingers.
"No, no, don't stop!" Reid whined piteously.
"Stop what, Pretty Boy? You doin' ok?" Morgan snickered softly when Reid kicked his feet like a four year old.
"Damn it, you know exactly what!"
Reid blamed the wine for his lack of control. He knocked the arms around him away and flipped over, pulling his knees up by Morgan's hips and pushing broad shoulders back into the arm of the couch. "Tease," he grouched, brushing his lips across his lover's.
"Now when have I ever teased you?" Morgan smiled innocently.
Reid gasped as large hands slid up to cup his ass.
He moaned softly and crushed his lips to Morgan's, begging for entrance with his tongue.
Yes! This was it. It took a great deal of coaxing to get Reid to take the first step when it came to sex. He kept himself under such tight control and always acted like he was asking Morgan a favor almost. Of course, once they got started… That was another matter.
This was what Morgan needed from Reid. There were going to be times…times when he just couldn't take what he knew his heart demanded. Morgan needed someone who had the strength to give it to him, whether he was ready or not. And Reid had that strength in spades. God, he loved the little genius so much.
Reid slid his tongue against Morgan's and groaned softly, his erection now pressing tauntingly against the zipper of his slacks. He ground his hips down into Morgan's, seeking some sort of relief. His stomach flipped when Morgan arched smoothly beneath him, moaning at the friction. So gorgeous…
"Fuck me, Morgan," Reid whispered against parted lips. "Please."
Morgan's eyes flashed and he grinned wolfishly.
"We've got a few too many clothes on, kid. If you want this, do something about it."
Reid shivered at the demand and claimed another heated kiss. He rose and felt the warm rush of the alcohol wash over his body. He backed slowly away from the couch, unbuttoning his cardigan as he went. One thing he'd found over the years was that he was a natural at strip tease (with a little wine). Something he had yet to share with Morgan.
His fingers worked their way up the buttons and slid slowly over his shoulders and up his neck, running through what was left of his hair. He kept backing away steadily, his hips swaying to a rhythm only he could hear. Reid rolled his shoulders back as he spun smoothly in his stocking feet, letting the sweater slip easily from his arms to the floor.
Only a button-up, undershirt, slacks, and socks to go. No boxers this time. He knew this morning that he was going to want as little between himself and Morgan as possible.
Morgan was gripping the couch so hard, Reid was quite sure the fabric would rip soon. The heat that flooded those dark eyes gave him one of the biggest confidence boosts of his life. His arms were back over his head now, his hips still gyrating tightly.
Morgan was standing now, his eyes wide with fascination.
Reid unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and practically slithered out of it against the wall, sliding down slowly with his back pressed to the wall. He deposited the shirt on the floor and ran his hands up under his undershirt teasingly as he rose, toeing off his socks simultaneously. He kicked them off as he turned away and held his arms out to drag his fingertips against the walls of the hallway.
Morgan couldn't stop himself from drifting after the lithe dancing figure.
His arms lifted over his head and he ran his hands back through his hair. His nails raked down his skin until he touched the neck of his shirt. He gripped the material and yanked it over his head in one brisk jerk, then dropped it carelessly on the floor.
A soft growl rose from deep in Morgan's chest. This gorgeous young man was his. What had Morgan done to deserve him? After this week…Nothing. Nothing he'd ever done came close to making him worthy of Spencer Reid.
Reid was almost to the bedroom. With a deft movement, he undid his slacks and let them slip down on his hips, showing just a hint of his ass to his very attentive audience. He stopped and turned with a lilting smile.
Morgan fisted his hands at his sides. Where had all the air gone?
"You're still wearing too many clothes. Come here and let me do something about that." Reid held out a hand and crooked his index finger.
Morgan wasn't sure how exactly, but suddenly he was sitting on the edge of his bed with a nearly naked Pretty Boy pulling his shirt over his head. Pushing him backwards slowly to lie flat on his back. Straddling him and kissing him breathless as his hips were lifted and his pants slid away.
He sat up to see a very naked, very confident, Pretty Boy standing before him. What had happened to all those clothes again?
And then there was more kissing. Wonderful kissing. Gasping. Licking. Mewling. Stroking. Groaning. Stretching. Moaning.
Something was supposed to be happening here. Reid came into this with a plan and he couldn't remember what it was now, because Morgan was pinning him to the bed and pushing into his body and making him burn with a fullness that had nothing to do with his considerable girth. He was whispering nonsense in Reid's ear as he adjusted, making him feel like the most cherished man in the world.
Morgan kissed across Reid's shoulders and up his neck and along the shell of his ear. He was upset about something. He'd started out that way, at least. What was it? His hair? What was wrong with Reid's hair? Nothing. It was wonderful. Better with a little length and a few curls, but when it sat atop a package like this, who gave a damn what the bow looked like? Not Morgan. Not anymore.
They chased their mutual pleasure until the sun crested in the window. At some point, the pleasure ceased to be sexual in nature. It came from the slender arms wrapped tightly around Morgan's shoulders when he buried his face in Reid's neck and whispered over and over that he should have gotten there sooner. Found a way to stop it. Been better at his job. Actually done his job. It came from the warm pain rising in Reid's chest as he held his lover in one of the older man's lowest moments and swore he wasn't going anywhere. Not ever.
It came two hours later from the text Hotch sent reading: No case. Stay home. Keep your phones on.
Two tangled bodies slid into sleep at 5:42 AM.
When Reid opened his eyes four hours later, he was alone in bed. There was a note on the side table: an apology for his absence and an address. Morgan had gone to hammer down a few walls. Reid smiled a bit and climbed out of bed. He opened Morgan's drawers and rummaged for a while.
Morgan gulped his water and tilted his face up to the warm sun. There was nothing more therapeutic than a good round of mind-blowing sex and a little productive violence. He could do this.
With a smile and sigh, he turned to grab his hammer. A hammer that was no longer on the ground where he'd left it. A skinny, white boy in a baggy shirt and belted pants held it out to him, handle-first.
"Want some company?"
Morgan stared silently for a few seconds.
"I love you."
Reid's jaw dropped. So did the hammer. Right on his toe.