"C'mon man, there are some fine ladies up in here tonight! You're never gonna get one sitting over here with the old men! You've got to come and dance!"
I wish that Morgan would get tired of having this argument. I know I am.
"Morgan, I don't want to dance. Why don't you just take Prentiss?"
"Prentiss is too intimidating to other women; she'll cramp my style. C'mon Reid, I need a wingman!"
"Every time we go out you ask me the same question, and every time you get the same answer. I don't want to go dance with a bunch of half-naked women I don't know."
"Seriously man, sometimes I wonder if you even want to meet a girl."
"As a matter of fact, I don't." I felt six pairs of eyes on me. Oops, this was not how I planned on coming out to the team, if I ever did come out at all. I'm not ashamed of being gay; I just like to keep my private life private. JJ knows. A couple Thanksgivings past the guy I was seeing at the time went to her house for dinner with me.
"And why not?" I'm pretty sure Morgan didn't think that one through; he just threw out a retort to keep up our bantering. I face-palmed myself.
"Um, Morgan, I think what he means is he would rather meet a hot guy," explained JJ slowly, trying to not sound condescending. Rossi was shaking his head and Hotch was smirking. Prentiss didn't seem particularly surprised and I don't think Penelope was surprised at all. Of course, Garcia has proclaimed herself as having the best gay-dar east of the Mississippi.
"Oh." Holy shit, Morgan is speechless!
"So Reid, how long have you been gay?"
"My whole life seeing as sexual orientation is biologically pre-determined," I replied to Prentiss, smirking.
"Ugh, never mind. I'm clearly not getting the details I was hoping for. Just answer me one question though – pleeeease. Who was your first boyfriend?"
"I knew it!" squealed Penelope. Thankfully the waitress chose that moment to arrive with the round of shots that Rossi had ordered.
Rossi had ordered a bunch of shots and was toasting Reid for coming out to us – more or less. The toast praised "being yourself" or something. I wasn't really paying attention. My best friend had just told me he was gay. How did I not know this? I thought we told each other everything. God do I sound like a teenage girl.
In some ways it makes sense, but hindsight is always 20/20. Although it doesn't explain his crush on JJ . . . or Lila . . . or Austin . . . This is a guy that I've shared hotel rooms with – shared hotel beds with even – and he never mentioned he was attracted to men. God am I an asshole. I can't believe I just thought that. That knowledge wouldn't have changed anything. It's not like just because he's gay he's going to be attracted to me or make a move. Actually, it's quite clear that he's not because he's had plenty of opportunities.
How can he not be attracted to me? Every straight woman I've ever met found me attractive, why shouldn't a gay man? If anyone knew what I was thinking right now they'd be telling me how my ego could fill this bar. But, well, I'm just saying. What's the matter with me? Am I not good enough for Reid? Of course I'm not. He's, well, Reid. He's on a whole other level. I'm good looking, but he's beautiful. I'm smart, but his intelligence can't even be quantified. If Ethan is his 'type' then he definitely would never look at me twice. I wonder if Reid has a boyfriend that we don't know about? Shit. Everyone is looking at me, probably because I haven't said anything since JJ had to spell it out for me in block letters that Reid is into guys. What do I say? 'It's cool that you're gay, but what I really want to know is why aren't you attracted to me?' I can't say that! And why do I care?
"Well, you know what this means," says Penelope, "next team outing we're going to a gay bar!"
We are in Omaha and we are sharing hotel rooms once again. Morgan didn't protest having to share with me, for which I am quite grateful. I'm in the bathroom, changing, giving Morgan the privacy to do the same. It's what I always do; if or when Morgan found out that I'm gay, I never wanted him to look back on all the times he'd shed clothes in front of me and be uncomfortable because of it or feel as though I breached his trust. So I give him privacy. Plus, his body really could be that of a Greek god, and even though I know I'm reasonably attractive, his body puts mine to shame.
I come out of the bathroom, Morgan goes in, and I crawl under the covers of my double bed. When he comes out, he leaves the light on and the door open a crack. I roll over, now facing away from him, because he's only wearing boxer briefs and I'd like nothing more than to lick his rock hard abs. When I first met him I was so nervous – he was . . . perfect. He was everything I wasn't – outspoken, physically strong with muscle definition out of this world, confident, good with a gun, handsome, athletic, quintessentially masculine. I'm no longer nervous in his presence now that we've become friends. He's kind and sensitive and he pushes me to be better – although the pushing can involve some playful mocking. I still think he's perfect though – at least to me, or for me. Which is why I can't watch him walking around in his underwear. He's also wearing reading glasses as he reviews the case file. I know that the reading glasses are a reminder of the fact that he's getting older, but he makes them sexy. Yes, him, sitting on top of his bed, in his underwear, wearing reading glasses, reviewing a case file, is ridiculously hot. And I don't think he even realizes it, which makes it that much hotter. Well he probably DOES realize the underwear part, but the rest . . .
After about twenty minutes, I hear him get up and he turns out the room's light. Since I prefer sleeping on my other side, I'm relieved that I can now roll back over.
"Hey Reid," says Morgan through the darkness.
"Did, um," he hesitates, "did you ever find yourself attracted to me?"
Why is he asking me this? What is he, a mind-reader? I wish I would have pretended to be asleep. I don't know how to answer this! If I say yes, then maybe he's uncomfortable around me. If I say no, maybe he'll be offended; he does pride himself on his physical appearance. Maybe I should just stop overanalyzing and answer truthfully.
"Of course, Morgan. Who doesn't find you attractive?" I ask rhetorically, hoping that answer satisfies his curiosity.
"You never gave me even a hint that you were attracted to me." Oh for crying out loud! What is with these questions? Did the girls put him up to this?
"Well Morgan, it's silly to pine away over a straight man. If you were bi, if you had ever given me even a hint that you were attracted to me, then maybe I would have given it a shot. But you're not, and I would hate to lose your friendship and it's against FBI policy anyhow." That's honest. Technically I am still pining, but I know that I'm ridiculous, so it's a truthful statement. I really would hate to lose his friendship too, although if he were bi then I might have dared to make a move if I thought the attraction was mutual.
I had to ask. I had to know for some reason.
I ask him if he's dating anyone, or if he has a boyfriend.
"No. It's just too hard to maintain a relationship with this job."
I want to ask if he is still attracted to me, if he has feelings for me, but that's too much to hit him with at once. I want to tell him that I'm not as straight as he thinks I am, that when I was younger I was attracted to men and women, but that I just kind of forced myself to bury any attraction to men after what happened with Carl. Homosexuality was not acceptable in an urban environment in the 1980's, and I was afraid that if people found out I liked guys too, that they would think I wanted Carl's abuse to happen. Logical or not, I was a teenager and that was what I thought. And then I joined the police force, and it was easier to just play it straight there too, so I made the conscious decision to ignore any attraction toward men and only act on my attraction to women. And that worked. Until now. And I want to tell him all this, but I can't. And why would he want me anyhow? I'm damaged goods. If we were to get together, hypothetically, and we had a sexual relationship, I don't know how I'd be. I might never be able to let him top. Maybe that wouldn't matter, but maybe it would, and I think it would hurt too damn much to ever find out.
I won't be telling him anything tonight though. His breathing is slow and even, and he's clearly asleep.
A few weeks later we actually do go to a gay bar. Rossi and Hotch politely declined, which is okay with me. They supportively accepted the fact that I'm gay, and that's all that matters. That leaves me with JJ, Emily, Garcia and Morgan. I think Garcia may have threatened him into coming, but oh well. We're at the door paying cover, so it's a little too late to intervene. I probably come to this bar once or twice a month; I know the bartender by now and he hooks me up.
"Spencer!" cries Joe, the bartender, as I approach. I open a tab and everyone speaks up with their orders. Joe pops the tops off of a couple of beer bottles, asking me "honey, why do you ever pick up boys here when you've got this perfectly sculpted piece of chocolate man candy that none of them can possibly hold a candle to?" The girls try not to laugh too loudly and Morgan squirms uncomfortably. "He's definitely your type. Besides, you know what they say about black men," Joe states as he winks at Morgan. Morgan looks mortified and the girls are in hysterics.
"Well Joe, these are my co-workers and he's straight," I say smiling.
"Ooooooh," he says knowingly. I've talked to him about Morgan before, on nights that I've decided to make my bartender my therapist, although a recent case makes me hesitant to ever do that again. He knows how much I wish Morgan had even an ounce of interest in men. "Well now, that's just a tragedy for gay men everywhere. Although he still makes nice eye candy. I tell you what, you two make-out and it'll be drinks on the house all night." JJ and Emily are now bent in half clutching their sides.
"Maybe we'll re-visit that proposition in after a few rounds," I reply, distributing drinks and then guiding the team to a table.
I can't believe I let Penelope talk me into this. We haven't even been here ten minutes and I think half a dozen different guys have undressed me with their eyes. And that bartender. I don't even know WHAT to say about him. 'You know what they say about black men.' I can't even believe he said that, let alone winked at me! And I'm Reid's type? What is that? Although I actually find that flattering.
And who knew Reid was so ballsy? That thing about re-visiting the proposition in a few rounds, what was that? The bartender seemed to imply that he's seen Reid pick up a lot of guys, which makes me feel queasy. I don't have a problem with the fact that he's gay, and we all know I don't have a problem with casual hook-ups. It's more the idea of him being with men . . . other men . . . men who aren't me . . . not that he's with me . . . not that I want to be with him . . . but he's never even tried . . . why does that make me feel so despondent?
The girls are having a conversation with Reid but I'm lost because I've been too busy having one with myself in my own head. There's a guy approaching the table with two drinks in his hands. He nudges Reid with his hip and hands him one of the drinks.
"Jake, these are a few of my co-workers," Reid begins as he introduces us, "everybody, this is my friend Jake." Jake looks to be about Reid's age. He's a couple inches shorter and thin, but muscular. His race is ambiguous. He's obviously not white, but he's very light skinned. He has blue eyes, which is unusual and they are very striking when combined with the rest of his features, and his black hair is cut very close to his head, but he's not completely bald like me and he's clean-shaven. He's dressed well, and – wait a second, why is his hand on the small of Reid's back? He's not allowed to touch him. I don't want anyone touching him. And why is he whispering in Reid's ear? Reid smiles and nods as Jake grins back at him – perfect teeth by the way. The grin is lascivious, in my opinion, and I question his intentions with respect to my, no our, no, my genius. Jake casually waves to the rest of us and walks away. I've missed the whole conversation again; I've got to get out of my head.
"Sooooo, boy wonder, who is he really?" Garcia asks. "He looks a little too friendly with you to just be a friend." Reid smiles, blushes slightly, and shakes his head.
"He is an acquaintance . . . we just hook-up sometimes." Reid says this so matter-of-factly I almost fall off my bar stool.
"You, you have a fuck buddy?" I manage to ask. The thought pains me, but it comes out sounding more like it surprises me. The girls are looking at me, agape, offended that I of all people would criticize that.
"Is it really that shocking Morgan? Did you really think that I was an awkward thirty year old virgin?" Reid asks indignantly.
"No, I, I, I . . ." I didn't mean it like that. Shit, shit, shit! He's so pissed!
"You know what, DON'T answer that. And fuck buddy really isn't the most accurate way to describe it. It's less than that. If we run into each other and we feel like hooking up, then we do. It's that simple." The girls are smiling at him and JJ looks so proud of him for some reason, like her little boy is all grown up now.
"I don't think I like him." Everyone is staring at me. I meant what I said this time, but I didn't mean to say it aloud, and my hand flies up to cover my mouth.
"Well you don't know him, do you? You looked like you were lost in outer space the entire time he was at the table," Garcia says. I know what she's doing. She's trying to redirect friction between me and Reid, and apparently I'm in the mood to make it hard for her to do so.
"It's just . . . well . . . why would you let him use you like that Reid? You're better than that. Is that really what you want?" I feel Emily's heel come down hard on the top of my foot. "Ow!" I cry looking at her. She's glaring at me. Penelope is looking at me like she doesn't even know me.
"One: I can't believe that you, the King of the One Night Stand, are judging me like that. Two: who said he's using me? The assumption should be that I'm using him, especially if one assumes I've taken your advice over the years. Three: you can't always get what you want." He takes a deep breath and exhales. "Now, I'm going to the bar for another round. Ladies, please help him extricate his head from his ass while I'm gone." Reid kept his voice calm and even but I know I've fucked up.
I can't believe he said that last part about getting my head out of my ass, although he is the only person I know who would say to extricate it. Not that he's wrong, but when did he get bold enough to say shit like that? Maybe he's just feeling more confident than usual because he's in his element, and there's no pretending to be something that he's not anymore. The girls are glaring at me.
"What the hell is wrong with you Morgan? It's taken him years to come out to the team and now you're going to behave like this, when your opinion is probably more important to him than the rest of ours combined? Why the hell are you even here if you can't handle the simple fact that he's gay and he's not a fucking nun?" JJ is in mama bear mode, protecting her cub.
I just sigh and place my elbows on the table and my head in my hands. I want to ask if my opinion is really that important to Reid, but I'm pretty sure that this is not the time. I don't know what's come over me, even though I spent the last month reassessing my feelings for him. This is different though, because it's real, it's live, it's happening right in front of me. I'm not imaging some hypothetical boyfriend, guys are hitting on Reid right in front of me. Again, I just don't like to think about Reid being with guys . . . other guys . . . which doesn't really make sense, because it's not as though Reid's with me; there's no reason for me to classify all these men as the 'others.' Regardless, that clown wasn't good enough for Reid. I feel Emily staring at me; I look at her out of the corner of my eye and she's no longer glaring. I know that look – she's studying me, she's profiling me.
"Morgan," she asks quietly, placing a hand on my shoulder, "are you jealous?"
"Please," I say, trying to sound offended at the suggestion, but that's all I say because I can't deny it. Now that she's said it I realize that's exactly how I feel, I just don't want to admit it.
"You are!" she says smiling. "It's okay; it makes sense. You're used to being the most important person in Reid's life, hands down. You've never had to compete for his attention before. This is throwing your world off-kilter."
"I'm not gay, Emily." That's true. I think. Except I wanted to rip that guy's head off for touching my Reid. My Reid? Possessive much?
"I'm not saying you are. I'm just saying that you're used to being the only man in Reid's life, and now that you have some competition in that department it's making you jealous. It makes perfect sense Morgan." The looks on JJ and Garcia's faces tell me that they agree with Emily; no longer angry, they look like . . . like they pity me or something. Before I can respond, Reid is back with the drinks. Thank God. I drink my drink quietly. I need to apologize to Reid, but I'd rather not do it in front of his three mother hens. I have so many thoughts and emotions running through me, and I don't want to discuss them with anyone BUT Reid. The music playing is pretty good. The dance floor is crowded, but there's still room to move. Hmmm. I wonder if . . .
"Hey Reid, do you want to dance?" Once again, I apparently have no control of the thoughts that stay in my head versus the ones that come out of my mouth. He looks surprised.
"Yes, with me. I know you don't usually like to, but you seem to be more in your comfort zone, so . . ." I leave the sentence open-ended. The girls are smiling at my obvious effort to rectify the situation and JJ elbows him.
"You know what?" Reid says as he stands, "Yeah, let's dance." We head to the dance floor and I grab his hand as I lead him onto it so that I won't lose him. He keeps some distance between us, mindful of my comfort level I'm sure, but I put my hands on his hips and bring him closer. I can't apologize if he can't hear me over the din – at least that's what I tell myself.
"I'm sorry about before. I was talking with the girls while you were at the bar and Emily said some things that made a lot of sense."
"Oh yeah?" We move even closer now as I begin to feel more and more comfortable. I have a hand on the small of Reid's back, and I feel one of his on the back of my neck. I'm happier than a kid in a candy store because I have Reid's undivided attention. It's ridiculous.
"I, uh, I think I was jealous."
"I can understand that." Is he just saying that or is he speaking from personal experience? Am I involved in that personal experience? God my ego is huge. To assume that . . . wait, got to finish my apology.
"Emily pointed out to me that I'm used to being or at least assuming that I'm the most important man in your life and never have to compete for your attention. And when I think about it, I guess that's true."
"Morgan, you are still the most important person in the world to me. Me coming out doesn't change that. And trust me, if you want my attention just say so, you don't have to compete for it – ever." Now I'm grinning like an idiot and Reid smiles back. A sensuous R&B song comes on and now we're grinding together, no space between our bodies at all.
"So who knew you could dance so well?"
"Morgan, just because I normally don't doesn't mean I can't," Reid answers a lilt of laughter in his soft answer.
Our hips continue to grind together and I rest my forehead against his. My pulse is quickening; dancing like this, being so close to Reid feels good, really good. I don't understand though; how could I not have realized? It just feels . . . so right . . . how did I not know this before now?
"When you said before, that you can't always get what you want, what did you mean?" I ask softly.
"I meant that I do want more than a fuck buddy, but the person that I want, I can't have."
"Why not? You're gorgeous, and unquantifiably smart, and good, and-"
Reid cuts me off. "And I'm not his type. And I don't mean I'm not his type like he prefers redheads. I'm not his type as in I have the wrong anatomy." My pulse is pumping even faster.
"So he's straight?"
"Yeah," Reid answers in a barely audible whisper. He sounds heartbroken and I try to pull him even closer, holding onto him tightly with both arms. I wonder if it IS me. I kind of like the idea of it being me. Although, as Prentiss pointed out, I'm not very good at sharing my toys. But there was something about the way he said that he understood how I could be jealous . . . is it possible that every time he sees me with a girl that he feels jealousy?
Right now I'm feeling the overwhelming urge to kiss him, and it's scaring the shit out of me. There have been a few men in my life that I felt attracted to, but I was always too scared to act on it. And I guess I do find Reid attractive; and why not? He's pretty, and brilliant, and he has an amazing ass. I grab hold of it, palming his cheeks with my hands. Who knew Reid had such an ass? He should wear these more fitted pants all the time. Although that would make everyone notice his ass, and I don't want that, and . . . his erection is rubbing against my thigh. And he's pulling away.
"Hey, where you going?" I ask softly, brushing some of his hair out of his face, pleased with myself for causing such a reaction.
"I, uh, was thinking that maybe we should take a break." His face had been flushed but now he's really blushing. When did he get so adorable? I knew my socially awkward genius was still in there somewhere.
"Reid, it's okay. I don't want to take a break." He bites his lower lip, looking worried; he's probably doing a cost benefit analysis of us continuing down this road. Shit. When did I start finding Reid so arousing? I don't know but my body is telling me that apparently I do. From behind, I pull him close against me, and as his ass rubs against my groin and my rapidly growing cock, his eyes widen in surprise.
"You're SURE you don't want to take a break?"
"Yeah man, I'm sure," I say, grinding into him again.
"Okay then," he says smirking, pushing back with his ass. Man, Reid has a great ass.
Emily, JJ and Garcia are gawking at Morgan and Reid's 'dancing.'
"That's not dancing. That's having sex with your clothes on!" JJ exclaims.
Reid's back is pressed tightly against Morgan's chest, and Morgan's holding onto him while he grinds and thrusts his pelvis against Reid's ass. They watch as Reid tilts his head to the side and lifts one of his arms backward to bring Morgan even closer – if that's even possible. Morgan's head is now nuzzling into Reid's neck; apparently having achieved his desired result, Reid brings his arm back down, his fingers finding Morgan's, linking them together.
"I really think Morgan is enjoying this more than he thought he would – or at least more than I thought he would," Emily comments.
"Either way, you have to admit that it is really hot," Garcia replies.
"I know, but when I said I thought Morgan was jealous earlier I didn't mean that I thought that HE wanted to be with Reid. Maybe he's not as straight as we thought . . . or as he thought."
"Shit," JJ says, chiming in. "This has disaster written all over it! Spence is going to end up with his heart broken. Morgan won't mean to, he'd never hurt Spence intentionally, but it'll happen just the same. Even if Spence is some kind of exception sexually, we all know Morgan's philosophy is 'love 'em and leave 'em' and that's not Spence. He loves Morgan. He'll be crushed when Morgan gets bored."
"I'll admit it. I'm confused. It looked like boy wonder was done dancing, and then my chocolate muffin grinds against him and says something that makes our little genius smirk and now they're dry humping. Can you be charged with public indecency if you're clothed?" Garcia inquires. Emily laughs and JJ shakes her head.
"I think that we should give them the alone time they apparently want," comments Prentiss, picking up her purse. "I'll just go tell them we're leaving. I know Reid came with me but I have a feeling Morgan won't mind giving him a ride." JJ groans at the double meaning of the last statement as Garcia giggles. "I'll go tell them we're leaving; I'll meet you guys by the exit."
Emily weaves her way through the dance floor. Morgan and Reid are so lost in each other they don't see her or hear her at first. Reluctantly, she reaches out and taps an arm. They both jump, surprised by her presence.
"I just wanted to let you boys know that we three are leaving." Both men nod. "Morgan, you'll give Reid a ride?" She thought it was hilarious the first time so why not use it with a new audience. Morgan smirks and shakes his head. He gives are a light smack on her ass, saying "get the hell out of here." She jumps when his hand makes contact with her left cheek and winks at them before wandering away.
"Now where were we?" Morgan asks me as he resumes grinding his hard-on against my ass. I know I should stop us. One or both of us is going to end up hurt. I can pretty much guarantee that I will. We could ruin our friendship. We might not be able to work together. Despite all these logical reasons to pull away from Morgan before we go too far, I can't. For once, my emotions and my arousal overwhelm my brain. I could try to think of prime numbers, or the periodic table, but I don't want to. I have wanted him for so long that even though I know this is wrong I simply can't stop.
His hands are all over me, and electricity jolts me everywhere he touches. Oh God! He definitely has a hand on my upper inner thigh. Holy shit! I should stop him, I should stop him, I – oh wait, he's stopping himself. He's nuzzling his face into my neck, his goatee scraping against my skin. He's panting on my neck now, and, oh fuck, his lips and tongue are now on it. God this feels good. I need to stop him, but he's intoxicating. Teeth. Teeth!
"Don't stop," I mumble. Shit! That's not what I was supposed to say. In fact, it's the exact opposite of what I was supposed to say. You know what, I'm just going to let myself enjoy this. I'm going to turn off my mind and relish the fact that Derek Morgan's tongue is licking my body.
I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. All I know is that I have a raging hard-on and Reid is the cause. I'm sucking and biting his neck, and I know I should stop, but I can't. And he told me not to, although if he is in love with me like I think he is then maybe I should anyhow. I'm so fucking confused! I'm not into guys, that's not who I am. And yet I'm like a leech plastered to his body; good luck pulling me off because I won't give up easily. But what am I doing?
"Morgan," Reid's breathy voice breaks my reverie. "We have to stop." I release my hold on his body. Why do we have to stop? I know the answer to that, but I'll ask it aloud anyhow.
Reid sighs. "Because we were caught up in the moment and on a path to do something we'd ultimately regret and I can't lose you."
"Reid . . . I . . . can we talk?"
"Of course. But the bar will be closing soon anyhow, so why don't we go pay my tab and go talk somewhere else?"
I nod and grab his hand, interlacing our fingers, as he begins to walk away. "Can I still do this?" I sound weak, and pathetic, and afraid of rejection, but he's my genius damnit, and I want all the guys leering at him to know! My genius? I'm fucked.
"Yeah," he responds with a half-smile, leading the way to the bar.
"Looks like he's not as straight as you thought," Joe comments as he runs Reid's credit card.
"We'll see? Christ, if that's how you treat all your friends can we go out together on one of my nights off?" I know that he's only joking with Reid but it irks me and without putting any real thought into it, I drop Reid's hand in order to wrap a protective . . . possessive . . . arm around his shoulders. "Or not," comments Joe as he takes notice and raises an eyebrow. Reid signs his receipt. What the hell is wrong with me? Why don't I just beat my chest with my fists and yell out 'my genius.'
"By the way, Jake said to let you know he'd see you some other time. He didn't want to interrupt." My grip on Reid's shoulder tightens, although I'm pleased that Jake didn't bother trying to hook up with Reid because we were together. I have officially lost my mind. I actually feel relieved when he wraps his arm around me because it confirms that he's my genius. Or at least that's what I'd like to think about the benign gesture.
"Thanks Joe," he says, leaving a cash tip and giving him a small wave. He looks at me from the corner of his eye as we're leaving and I can see a smirk on his face.
"So I think Prentiss hit the nail on the head with her jealousy theory," Reid teases as we climb into my truck.
"I don't like all those other guys wanting to have their way with you," I state as I turn-over the engine.
"Did you skip the part in kindergarten when they teach you to share?"
"I don't want to share you! You're mine!"
"Morgan," he says gently.
"I'm so fucking confused," I cry, purposefully banging my head against the steering wheel when we stop at a red light. At least I've admitted that much. Reid's left hand reaches over and settles on my forearm. I look over to him.
"Look we said we needed to talk, right? So let's go back to your place, we'll take care of Clooney, and we'll talk." I nod in agreement.
When they've settled on the couch in Morgan's living room, Reid begins. "Do you want to tell me why you feel confused? Maybe you want to explain how I'm yours?"
"If I knew why I feel confused I wouldn't be confused, would I?"
"Morgan . . ." says Reid in a warning voice.
"And I don't know why you're mine. You just are because I said so." Reid gives Morgan a look; Morgan knows he sounds like a toddler throwing a tantrum but he can't help himself.
"You were clearly turned on when you were dancing with me. Is that what's confusing?"
"Yes. No. Not really. Maybe. It's just been a long time since I was attracted to another guy. And I've never acted on it before."
"Wait – you mean you've been attracted to men in the past?"
"When I was younger, long before you knew me. I never acted on it though, I just kind of buried it." Morgan was looking away from Reid, ashamed. Fucking Carl Buford, Reid thinks as he tries to stay in the moment with Morgan, and not dwell on the bastard who abused him as a young teen. Reid slid across the couch.
"Look at me," he began, taking Morgan's hand. "I'm not judging you. And you have no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed." Morgan looked down again. Reid leaned in and placed a soft, gentle kiss on his cheek. "Talk to me, please."
"I, I feel like I was run over by an emotional steamroller. I'm feeling all these things for you, and they're so strong, I don't understand how either I never noticed them or how they just appeared so abruptly."
Reid nodded. "Well, Emily had a point when she said you've never been in that kind of position before with me."
"I just . . . I don't want to share you. I want you to be all mine, and mine alone. I want to be everything to you. But how can I all of a sudden feel this way? And I don't understand when I became the kind of guy who gets jealous and possessive. I've never been that guy; never thought I would be."
"Morgan, the feelings have probably been brewing under the surface for a while now. Me coming out and us going to that bar tonight was just the catalyst that helped them to finally surface. It's probably been slowly building for a very long time. That's why it's so intense." Morgan nodded. "And for the record, I want to be everything to you too, and I despise the fact that I have to share you."
"Reid," he began softly, "I want to be with you."
"I want to be with you, but I need you to be certain. I can't lose you. I need you."
"I am certain. I've been reconsidering our relationship since the night you came out to the team. This is horrible, but one of my first questions was why didn't you want me? You won't lose me. I need you too you know." Reid moved so that he was straddling Morgan's lap.
"You know this means no more flirting, or dancing with skanks when we're at clubs, no sex of any kind with anyone but me," Reid cautions.
"Reid, Spencer . . . I've had more one night stands than relationships in my life . . . a lot more . . . so I will probably screw up from time to time, but I've never wanted to be with someone as much as I want to be with you, so I'll do my best. That's all I can promise."
"That's okay, good answer," Reid replies, running his hands over Morgan's chest and shoulders.
"Just out of curiosity, when were you thinking that sex would start? I know we've only been together ten minutes but I've known you for almost ten years, and I'm just wondering how that works."
Reid rolled his eyes and smiled. "Well Derek, I'm glad to see turning forty hasn't affected your libido. As for the sex . . . I've been waiting almost ten years; I think that's long enough." He put his hands on either side of Morgan's face and kissed him.