Fanfic: Fix Tonight [Criminal Minds]
Title: Fix Tonight
Author: wanderingjasper
Rating: NC17
Characters: Morgan/Reid
Word Count: 7,331
Themes: Explicit sex, referenced/implied drug use, H/C.
Warnings: Crime scene featuring minors, implied violence against children, references to childhood sexual abuse.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, but I do take liberties with them for no financial gain.
Notes: An intended H/C PWP that ended up having more plot than first envisioned. My first forray into CM fanfic. Un-beta'd, liable to have some typos despite spellcheck and multiple read-throughs. Vague timeline setting.
Summary: After a harrowing case Morgan needs control, and Reid needs a fix.
“If an addict who has been completely cured starts smoking again he no longer experiences the discomfort of his first addiction. There exists, therefore, outside alkaloids and habit, a sense for opium, an intangible habit which lives on, despite the recasting of the organism. The dead drug leaves a ghost behind. At certain hours it haunts the house.” - Jean Cocteau
Nobody spoke on the jet as it flew back to Virginia from Bottineua County, North Dakota. The most emotionally obdurate agent wouldn’t have criticised this, considering the scene they were essentially fleeing. Even Hotch, usually the most business-minded was paused pen-in-hand over paperwork, eyes staring unfocused into the middle-distance. Rossi was staring out of the window into the dark with a face that warned everyone he might not be able to manage his measured, often fatherly tones. Prentiss had a book open in hand, but her eyes didn’t move across the page. JJ kept silently catching tears as they crept out of her eyes with her thumb, avoiding everyone else’s gaze, lest they look at her and see.
Morgan had one sense occupied by headphones as usual, but he had resorted to listening to what he considered an emergency playlist - the music was lyricless and unknown, instrumental tracks from an old CD that was buried in his material collect, effort only taken to digitise it for situations like he found himself in now. Listening to music was a ritual he needed to perform when returning from a case on the jet, but he didn’t want to listen to whatever currently took his fancy, or his favourites, because the images from the last two days were playing across the front of his mind. If the two, the memories and the music, became fused he might never separate them again.
Reid was unhampered by query or judgement as his eyes moved around his teammates, because none of them endeavoured to look his way. Even after the day they’d had his brain wouldn’t allow him to switch off. Usually that was fine because that had always been so, but after the events of the case they might never be able to bring themselves to refer to as ‘closed’ he wanted nothing more than to disconnect some of the jumbles of wires his brain seemed to be made of. This desire was not welcome, because he knew exactly how he could achieve that. He wanted to stay clean.
---
“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.”
JJ’s terror was only just audible to Morgan and Prentiss who flanked her, but it emoted everyone’s pure unadulterated fear. They hadn’t been quick enough, and when reports of a gunshot at the school had reached them, they knew they were too late. The small school was quiet, empty, until they reached the first grade classroom. The teacher lay dead by the door, shot at point-blank range with a shotgun to the stomach. The glass window of the classroom door had the blind pulled down over it, so none of the agents were prepare for the scene before going in with their weapons raised. One of the local cops who had stormed in with them retreated at the sight, and they could hear him vomiting in the hallway. The children slouched in their seats, lying across the floor, flopped over desks - nine in all, were seemingly unmarked, but of course not sleeping. The team knew from the profile and the previous crimes each of them would have died instantly from having their neck broken. There was a hole in the ceiling, and plaster debris scattered the classroom. Sitting casually on the teacher’s desk in front of the blackboard was the unsub, white teeth gleaming in a grin as he stroked the hair of the child he had gripped around the shoulders with the other arm, seemingly unfazed by the seven guns pointed at him.
“Let the child go, Michael,” Hotch said, voice calmer than seemed possible in the face of the scene they were confronted with. The boy whimpered, whatever means the unsub having used to placate them all long enough to kill them without fight wearing off.
“Let the kid go!” Morgan barked.
The unsub didn’t. With that grin still pulled across his face, he moved his hands into position to break the child’s neck. At the presence of a stranger’s hand gripping his chin the boy bit down hard, making the unsub yell and loosen his grip enough for the child to throw himself forward out of his grasp. The unsub’s grin twitched and he reached for the shotgun on the desk; shots rang out in the small classroom, so many that the unsub’s body was forced back over the desk against the blackboard, riddled with bullet holes and covered in blood.
---
“We couldn’t have stopped him,” Hotch had said to a bewildered team as they were sidelined after the violent conclusion, as always leaving the local services to deal with the aftermath. “We were called in too late.”
Everyone clung to that assurance as they silently left the jet. There were no goodbyes or assurances to see each other on the next case. Nobody was up for casual small talk as they made to go to their homes.
“Reid, do you need a ride home?” Morgan asked, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he neared his car in the parking lot. Reid paused and looked around, blinking several times before he nodded.
They were silent as Morgan drove towards Reid’s apartment building. It wasn’t unusual for him to get a lift from someone; as the only one who was known to regularly use public transport, their fluid hours could be problematic. After they stopped, Reid unbuckled himself and smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner at his friend. Morgan did the same with a little nod.
“Night, Reid.”
“Goodnight Morgan,” Spencer said softly, letting himself out of the car.
Reid let himself into his apartment and didn’t turn on any lights. The layout was automatically memorised, so he didn’t need the space illuminated as he pulled off each shoe with the opposite foot and discarded his bag and jacket. He padded through to the bathroom, this time turning on the light and narrowed his eyes against the harsh brightness, sliding the mirror of the cabinet to reveal minimal supplies; there were some unopened bars of soap, a cologne Garcia had given him for a past birthday he’d only worn once, full bottles of shampoo and conditioner and an in-use tube of toothpaste. It had been devoid of even over the counter medication since he’d fought and won against his Dilaudid addiction. He closed the cabinet again, knowing he’d only opened it out of habit like he always did, and looked at his reflection in the mirror.
He had seen awful things in his time at the BAU, but never so many child victims all at once. The unsub was of course not the first psychopath he’d encountered either, but that grin he’d worn as he prepared to take his final life and was faced with a firing squad was burnt into Spencer’s mind. It was an image he didn’t need or want, but his eidetic memory would never let him forget.
Except when...
Spencer reached under the sink, feeling around the porcelain rim. There were two things fixed there with tape, and he retrieved them both; one small medical vial of Dilaudid, and a fresh vacuum packed syringe. The two had been there as long as he had been clean. He wasn’t sure why; he’d ridded his apartment and his life of all other medication he thought might act as a gateway to that addiction, but at the back of his mind had always known that one hit was available. He often told himself it was to test him, to make sure he could resist temptation, but at moments like this he was sure it was because he knew he’d always end up here again.
---
Morgan didn’t watch Reid to his door, but leant his elbows on the steering wheel and ran his hands over his face and head, stretching out his tired skin. Hotch’s words were meant to reassure, to make them realise he was right; that they had done everything they could, and what they needed to save those children was what they weren’t given; more time.
That wasn’t good enough for Morgan. How long had it taken for the unsub to kill those children? Ten minutes? Twenty? Every minute counted as they’d rushed to the scene. Morgan had driven one car, and the route had been his decision, being the car in front. If there had been a quicker way that he missed, they might have saved more of those children. But even worse than that, Morgan and Reid had talked to the unsub as a person of interest the previous day, and between their rushed profile and the unsub’s disarming grin, they’d walked away satisfied he was of no further merit. If Morgan had only realised, only seen what was now obvious, they might have walked away with more than one young life saved that day.
He started the car, and happened to glance around, so he noticed Reid’s mobile phone on the passenger seat. Morgan paused, fingers twisting the keys in the ignition. Any other day, he’d just keep hold of the phone and give it to Reid when he saw him next, or dropped it by in the morning. But right now, seeing a familiar face, one that had seen exactly what he had seemed like a comfort he didn’t want to pass up, even if I was only for a minute.
Nobody needed to buzz him through the main door, because like usual if it wasn’t locked it could be opened with a little pressure from a shoulder barge. Morgan had repeatedly reminded Reid when he referenced it that he needed to tell his landlord to get the door fixed, so nobody got their apartment burgled.
Morgan knocked on Reid's door, hoping the man hadn’t gone to bed yet. He waited, leaning on the doorframe, arm raised above his head. After a pause he knocked again, not loud enough to wake him if he was asleep, but loud enough to be heard.
“Morgan?” Reid said from within, having looked through the spy hole before opening the door. “Hi,” he said, looking confused at the sight of his friend and teammate at his door.
“Hey pretty boy,” Morgan greeted, mustering a smile. “You forgot your phone.” He held it out to him, and the other tried to reach out and take it without opening the door any further. There was a clatter from behind the door and Reid suddenly scrambled downward, attempting to stop whatever it was. “Hey, Reid, you okay?” Morgan said automatically, pushing the door open to help with whatever it was. Reid snatched something up from the floor and brought his closed hand against his chest, head jerking up to look at Morgan as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Reid...?”
“You should g-go,” Reid stuttered.
“Reid, what is it?” Morgan’s concern was plain, that soft kindness infiltrating his voice. Reid dropped his gaze, not sure whether he wanted Morgan to leave or to press the issue. He took a step back into the hall, and although he wasn’t sure if that read as an invitation, Morgan stepped over the threshold into his apartment, pushing the door too behind him. “Reid.”
Slowly, deliberately, the paler man let his closed hand come away from his chest. Morgan’s gaze followed it, darting up to Reid’s face, but the man wasn’t looking at him. Each finger of the pale hand curled away individually, slowly, revealing a medical vial. Morgan reached out his fingers for it, paused, saw that Reid didn’t retreat his hand, and then picked it up.
“Dilaudid,” he murmured, turning the vial over. “Isn’t this what Hankel... but... have you...is this...?” things seemed to be falling into place, putting the pieces together without requiring an explanation. “Reid?”
“I’m clean,” Reid said, not meeting Morgan’s eyes. “I’m... this case... ” the paler man took a long shuddering breathe inwards. “I need...”
Morgan’s fingers caught under Reid’s chin, tempting him to look upwards. He expected searching, confused but kind eyes of his friend; he did not expect Morgan to bend his head and kiss him full on the mouth.
Spencer would be lying to himself if he pretended he hadn’t wanted to kiss Morgan for a number of years. The agent was his best friend, and he had always thought years of growing up largely friendless meant the thoughts and feelings he had towards Morgan were a natural part of such a friendship, one he hadn’t grown up to know how to handle.
Presently he pulled away from Morgan’s kiss, and the other man blinked slowly, nodding a little to himself. He wanted so much to press his lips back there, to have Reid kiss back and tell him he wanted him the way Morgan did, that those feelings he’d had all this time weren’t weird and were valid, like some cheesy movie; but he also knew he was being foolish. Whatever his feelings towards Reid, now was not the time to indulge them. He should have known better.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, slowly moving away. “I’ll-”
“Morgan,” Reid breathed, hand gripping a fistful of the front of the other’s shirt, making him pause and breathe out slowly in anticipation. “Morgan,” he repeated. “Please kiss me again.”
Morgan did, and Reid responded, both hands rising to Derek’s neck, keeping him there, because if he moved away now Spencer would be left embarrassed and rejected, shaking with anticipation. Morgan mirrored with similar need, hands wrapping around the man and splaying wide against his back as his tongue snaked out against Reid’s bottom lip. Without conscious instruction, Reid let his lips part and his own tongue greeted Morgan’s, deepening the kiss as his hips pressed into the older agent’s. Morgan took command of the kiss, and Reid was happy to surrender, longer fingers flexing against the man’s neck as Morgan pressed the slender man against the nearest wall. Morgan had put the vial of Diaudid down somewhere, but Reid was too distracted to notice or care. His knee moved between Reid’s, and the force of the kiss pushed him up the wall an inch or two, making him have to bend his neck to continue to kiss Morgan, although they were statistically the same height. He didn’t let go of the darker man, his hands still holding his neck and the base of his skull, eyes closed and lost to the increasingly desperate kiss.
Morgan had one hand braced on the wall at Spencer's side, while the other moved upwards along his clothed ribcage, over his shoulder and up his neck to lace through his hair. The fingertips across his scalp made the genius gasp against Derek’s mouth, and he closed his lips and teeth around the other’s swollen bottom lip, tugging at it. The action sent a jolt of stimulation throughout the broader agent’s body, pooling heat in his groin, which was now straining hard against the front of his trousers and the clothed body he had pressed to the wall. Reid had been quick to reach a similar state of arousal, and bumped his hips forward into Morgan’s deliberately, relishing the confined friction.
Morgan took his hand from the wall and moved it between them, grabbing a handful of Reid’s shirt and tugging it free of his belt. With a deft, practiced ease he unbuttoned several of the lower buttons, then put his hand flat against the warmth of Spencer’s belly, seemingly unable to wait until the shirt was entirely open to feel his skin underhand. Reid consented with active wanton participation, a shuddering breath against soft lips between a kiss, wanting that hand lower, and higher, and everywhere over him. Morgan went back to undressing him, moving his hand behind the man’s tie to undo all the buttons before taking said tie in hand and firmly tugging it to loosen it from Reid’s neck. Morgan’s lips finally left the other’s, tracing down to his beautiful jaw line, kissing along the shape of it as if he had been kissing men’s jaws all his life. Reid gasped and shrugged to help Morgan push his shirt from him; it was still tucked in at the back so hung awkwardly behind him, but neither paid it any mind. In the orangey light of the entrance alcove Reid’s skin looked as warm as it felt as Morgan ran his hand down it, pulling back a little to look at it. Reid was watching him intently, grip loosened but not removed from his neck and shoulder. The last thing he wanted to happen was for Morgan to come to his senses and realise he was kissing - making out with - undressing - his male friend.
Morgan leant forward and placed a soft kiss on Reid’s shoulder, then his prominent clavicle. Reid felt relief and a sudden wave of emotion ripple through him as he wasn’t rejected as he expected, and finally let his hands slip from Morgan’s neck, slowly down his front, sensing the definition of muscles below his thin t-shirt. His fingers skimmed along the hem of the dark material, letting the other’s motion move his head to the side, stretching out his neck and exposing the sensitive skin to Morgan’s large soft lips. He was still hesitating with the other’s shirt when he felt the subtle scrape of teeth against his neck as Morgan continued to kiss there, and he groaned, grabbing the material in hand and tugging it free of the man’s belt. He was sure he felt Morgan’s mouth curl into a smile against his skin as he pushed the material upwards, running his hands along the man’s warm ribcage as he went. When he reached as far as he could unaided Morgan quickly pulled back enough to rid himself of the shirt.
Spencer couldn’t believe how hot Morgan’s skin was under his hands as he put both of them on the man’s chest. Dark hands curled around his waist, and Derek leant into him again and captured his lips. The kisses were frenzied and their hands followed suit, running over the exposed flesh of each other, until Morgan found Reid’s belt. The paler man was entirely enraptured with kissing him, their tongue dancing against each other, but he seemed aware of the hands lingering at the top of his slacks, because he pushed his hips forward obvious into Morgan’s hands and his crotch into the other’s own hardness. Morgan needed no further encouragement, and unbuckled Reid’s belt, pulling it free from the belt loops with one quick tug. Next he unbuttoned the man’s trousers and reached for his zipper, pulling it down and pushing the fabric away from the map’s hips, the material kept from falling by the man being leant against the wall. Morgan pressed a thumb along one of Reid’s hip bones, and the man actually bucked beneath him, gasping out into the kiss and gripping Morgan’s biceps, where his hands had been tracing the definition of muscle. Derek repeated the action on the other hip and received a similar response, and kissed Reid harder.
Slender hands found the other’s belt and unhooked it with less ease than Morgan had, but managed to get it unbuckled without breaking the kiss. He could feel the heat radiating from within as he unbuttoned and unzipped the front of Morgan’s trousers. All he wanted to do at that moment was slip his hand downwards and feel the bulge that had been pressing against him as they kissed, but even with Morgan pressed up against him, kissing him feverishly, he couldn’t bring himself to. What if all Morgan wanted to do was kiss and touch and buck? If he tried to move things on and the man rejected him, he’d feel mortified, completely-
“D’you want me to fuck you?” Morgan murmured against Reid’s lips. The genius put his head back against the wall, putting a little space between their faces.
“Do you want to fuck me?” he asked, regretting that he chose to answer with an awkward question as soon as it left his mouth. Morgan didn’t reply, but watched Reid with intense dark eyes, one hand on the man’s hip, the other gripping his side, thumb resting below his pectoral. “Yes,” Reid breathed. “I n-want you to fuck me.”
“Bedroom.” Morgan said, voice thick with desire. Spencer didn’t want to move away from the other, but slipped out from against the wall and quickly moved across the apartment to the closed door of his bedroom. He didn’t look around to make sure the other was following, but could hear is footfalls and feel his presence behind him. It was dark in the bedroom as Morgan pushed the door closed automatically behind him, and they were enveloped by darkness for a few seconds before Reid flicked on a bedside lamp. The light cast a warm glow in the room, and the man turned to see Derek flicking off his shoes. Their eyes met, gaze holding until Morgan deliberately looked towards the bed, and then slowly back again. Reid nodded to himself before he moved, climbing onto his bed. Morgan followed, drinking in the sight of the paler man as he lay awkwardly, breathing deeply and staring with wide eyes at Morgan. He reached for the man’s trousers and pulled them away from his hips, the other lifting his up enough to allow the older to rid him of them. Morgan followed suit, stepping off the end of the bed long enough to drop his trousers, stepping out of them and crawling back onto the bed, pushing Reid’s knees apart and moving between them.
Below him Reid’s lips were parted, a small sliver of pink tongue poking out to trace over them. Morgan supported himself over the man’s body as Reid’s hands found his torso again, wrapping around his back. It was clear now, even more so than seeing Reid clothed, how attractive he was. He was lithe and long-limbed, skin and lean muscle and protruding bone in places. It was a masculinity that wasn’t in line with the limited definition society gave them, but to Morgan it was still essentially male.
Morgan lowered his mouth and kissed Reid, deepening it immediately and resuming the passion of the entrance alcove. Fluidly he moved to rest on one elbow, the other hand tracing lower, to catch at the hem of Spencer's briefs. He lifted his hips to let Morgan pull them off, suddenly very aware that he was naked and Morgan was backing up, sitting back on his haunches and looking at his body. If he could have pulled his legs together he would have, but as Morgan was on his knees between them he had to settle for pushing himself up onto his own elbows and watching for Morgan’s reaction. There was no comment from Morgan, just desire in his eyes, and he immediately stripped his own briefs away without getting off the bed, flinging them over his shoulder.
Reid stared hard at Morgan’s face, scared to look lower and feeling pathetic for that fear. Finally his eyes darted down, and then he couldn’t draw them away. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen various penises before in his life, but never one attached to a live person, erect and twitching against a dark stomach. He noticed how neatly shaped Morgan’s pubic hair was, and felt awkward about his own; he wasn’t exactly sexually active, so it had never crossed his mind to have a regime for that. He was still staring at Morgan’s cock when he felt fingers running through his downy pubes, and a thumb against the underside of his own length.
Morgan had never touched a man like this; at least not willingly on his part. But that wasn’t a memory he wanted to surface now as he took Reid’s slim cock in his hand, realising it wasn’t as alien a sensation as he’d worried; he knew what motion he liked, so he mirrored it for Spencer, gripping firmly and stroking his fist along the man’s length. Reid moaned softly and lifted his hips, eyes darting to Morgan’s face. Morgan looked up as he continued to stroke, the eye contact as sexy as the sight of Reid reacting under his ministrations; the whisper of muscle on his torso dancing and his hips flexing in time with Morgan’s fist, which was increasing speed. Reid had never had hands on him like this before; although he wasn’t virginal, his experiences with women had been awkward and fleeting, and nobody had ever kissed him as needily, or touched him in a way that was more than to just make sure he met the requirements for successful coitus; Reid was already there with Morgan, technically he was physically ready, but Morgan actually seemed to want to cause him pleasure.
Spencer pushed himself up from his elbows and reached between Derek’s legs, wrapping his hand around the girth there. He didn’t want to admit he’d never done this for another person before, and although logic told him to just touch Morgan like he himself enjoyed, there was a silly nagging voice at the back of his head that assured him he’d been doing it wrong all these years and Morgan would be disappointed.
Morgan was far from disappointed, letting out a small groan and closing his eyes for a few seconds as Spencer began to twist his fingers, studious hands learning his flesh. Both their hands moved along each other, and Reid arched his back and neck in search of contact. Morgan gave it, leaning forward to kiss the man, lifting a hand to push the man’s soft, messy hair away from his damp forehead and relishing the electricity of the kiss and the fire of Reid’s hand stroking him.
“Lube?” Morgan breathed against the man’s mouth. “Condoms?”
Reid didn’t draw back from the kiss straight away, reluctant to stop his tongue dancing against the other’s, not wanting to stop touching him, or being touched, but he knew he needed what came next. He leant across the bed, pulling open a bedside draw and feeling inside, finally drawing back with a bottle of lubricant gel and a packet of condoms. Morgan was a little surprised that Reid had both of these things, and more so that they were kept by his bed, but he didn’t comment.
“Turn over,” Morgan said. Reid turned onto his hands and knees, feeling exposed and nervous, and more aroused and alight than he’d ever felt. After all the things Morgan had seen as a cop and in the BAU, a normal, healthy portion of male anatomy neither shocked or scared him, but he was somewhat intimidated. Some part of him wanted to explain he’d never done this with a man before, but doing so would mean admitting he was inexperienced, and wasn’t sure or in control of what was going to happen, and for Morgan that was a vulnerability he didn’t want anyone to see.
Gently he put one hand on Reid’s smooth pale rear, and circled the tip of a lubricated finger around the pink pucker of the man’s entrance. Reid jolted, bracing his upper torso against the pillows of the bed. With a decent understanding of how the act worked, he firmly pressed his finger against the muscled resistance, and through. Reid moaned from his throat as Morgan’s thick digit invaded him, pushing into the hilt as his muscles clamped at the welcomed intrusion. Morgan’s hand traced up Reid’s spine, the vertebrae pressing up against his skin, and curled his finger, exploring the tight heat that surrounded it. The pad of his finger brushed against a small bump, and although he knew from his knowledge of anatomy that was the man’s prostate, he wasn’t prepared for the reaction to his touch.
“Aaah!” Reid gasped, hips bumping into the contact, all the muscles of his thighs tensing. Morgan spared the hand that had gone up Reid’s back, drawing it back down and over the man’s hip, to reach under him and feel for his erection. Spencer was still hard, his tip wet with precum. Morgan gently made circles with his fingertip, and felt the man’s cock jump in hand, felt the muscles of his legs dance against his own, listened to the sound of Reid’s panting breathing and soft moans.
After more time stroking his finger within Reid’s channel, gently touching his sweet spot, he withdrew the finger and squeezed more lube onto it, and onto the adjacent finger. He returned them against Reid’s pucker, not pausing this time to read the man’s response, pushing them into the tight slickened heat. He found that spot again and framed it with his fingers, rubbing the sides and not directly on it, knowing there were a lot of nerve endings there and not wanting to over-stimulate the man or cause him any undue discomfort. Reid seemed to enjoy this highly, because his hips were rocking slightly back and forth, creating a miniature sawing motion, and Morgan could see his hands gripping the pillows hard.
Morgan’s fingers felt better in him than his own; though Reid suspected that might have a lot to do with the fact there was another person touching him so intimately. His hands were rougher than the times Spencer had imaged him touching him like this, frivolous thoughts when he was alone in bed.
Morgan removed his fingers slowly, unable to ignore his own need any more. Reid shifted on his knees a little, looking back at Morgan for the first time since changing positions. Morgan met his gaze as he unwrapped a condom and slid it down his length.
“You want to do this?” Derek asked huskily, lazily stroking lube over his latex covered erection.
“Yes,” Reid nodded.
“Have you done this before?”
Reid nodded again. It wasn’t the whole truth; he’d tested the pleasure he could get from being penetrated with his own fingers and with a small dildo, never with a real man, but the last thing he wanted to do was stumble through a wordy explanation of his masturbatory experimentation when he was go close to what he needed.
Morgan gripped Reid’s rear with one hand, the other guiding his tip against the other’s entrance. He was surprised by the resistance of the muscle, but enamoured with Reid’s hitched breathing, the tiny sounds falling from between his bruised lips. Morgan pushed forward, the head of his cock slipping past the first guarding muscle, and Spencer moaned throatily. It took all of Morgan’s restraint not to slam his hips forward and bury himself in that delicious tight heat, and now both hands gripped Reid’s behind tightly.
Spencer’s toes curled as he felt Morgan pushing in slowly, steadily stretching him, filling him. He was aware of the sounds falling from his mouth; high whines of need from the back of his throat, and deeper moans rumbling up from his chest, but he was far too gone to care what he sounded like. Finally he felt the rough tickle of the other’s wiry pubes brushing against his flesh, and panted at the feeling of being completely impaled. This was more than he’d ever imagined; deeper, wider, and a thousand times more intense.
“Morgan!” he gasped. “Need...”
Morgan was sure he understood, hands shifting position slightly to grip Reid’s hips, holding them tightly as he slid his pelvis back, dragging his cock back against the resistance of Reid’s squeezing muscles. He stopped with the tip still sheathed and pushed forward again, quicker than he had the first time, and repeated the action again. Reid began to respond immediately, rocking his own hips back and forth in rhythm with Derek’s, an unspoken sign that he wanted - needed - Morgan to move. The darker agent picked up speed, sawing his cock in and out of Spencer with increasing fervour, face creased with the completely new feeling of being gripped so hard. Morgan continued his fast movements as his hands moved around Reid’s hips, one across his stomach and up to brace across his chest, making it easy to pull the man upright against him, cock still sheathed entirely in him. The hand that wasn’t splayed across his damp chest ran up the back of his neck and through his hair, grabbing a large fistful of it. He squeezed his hand, tugging at Reid’s hair and making his neck arch, gauging the man’s reaction as he began to thrust again.
“Yesss,” Reid hissed through his teeth, so Morgan gripped his hair harder and pulled, making the man’s back arch. His hand moved lower, gripping at the man’s bony hip to give him leverage as he continued to fuck him, fast, hard shallow thrusts as the position would allow.
Reid was moaning loudly, too lost in the ecstasy of the friction and the heat and the stimulating tug of his hair and scalp to wonder what his neighbours must be thinking. One hand moved back to grip Morgan’s bicep, anchoring himself to the other’s body so the hold at his hair didn’t veer from painfully delightful to outright hurt, the other having to grip hard at the man’s rear to not slip away because of the perspiration they were covered in. When he felt Morgan’s teeth and lips at his neck, he gasped his approval again and arched his neck back further, giving the man access to that flesh.
Morgan had, perhaps foolishly, imagined Reid would be passive in sex, letting Morgan have him any way he wanted. And while Morgan certainly had the obvious control: the iron grip on his hip which would probably bruise, the hold on his hair which made his back arch, there was a tangible sense that as selfish as Morgan’s base need, Reid was not merely allowing himself to be fucked; he wanted it as much as Morgan did. That thought was so sexy to Morgan, and he thrust harder into Reid for it.
Spencer let go of Morgan’s rear and wrapped his hand around his own cock, knowing adding that stimulation would push him fast to an end, but he was so close already. The hand that Morgan had squeezing his hip let go, and when he wrapped his hand over Reid’s and began to guide the motion Reid let him, tilting his head so his lips were against Morgan’s cheek and continued to pant. Morgan kissed him, claiming his mouth, using his hold on the man’s hair to angle his face so he could dominate the kiss. Reid’s hips thrust forward into his own hand under Morgan’s control, knew that as long as he didn’t stop stroking and thrusting soon he’d peak.
Reid screwed his eyes shut and moaned against Morgan’s mouth, hips jerking and body shaking as he tumbled headfirst into orgasm, spilling out over both their hands and onto the sheets below. Morgan kept a grip on his hair, holding him upright as the thinner man’s body shook from the force of the orgasm. Reid gasped and tugged at Morgan’s bottom lip with his teeth, still letting Morgan stroke him with his own hand in a futile attempt to extend his pleasure, but to no success as his rolling orgasm began to slow.
Morgan suddenly let go of Reid’s hair and the man fell forward, knowing what was coming and braced his upper torso against the bed. Dark hands gripped at pale hips and Morgan began to trust hard and fast, racing towards his release. Although Reid moaned from the continued stimulation he let Morgan control the motion of his hips, pulling and pushing him along his cock, the organic sound of flesh hitting flesh mingling with Spencer’s moans and Derek's grunts.
With several last hard thrusts Morgan came, grinding his body against the other, holding the man’s hips to him desperately, head thrown back and teeth clenched to stifle what felt like a roar brewing in his chest. It came out as a deep groan as he emptied into the condom inside the pale man, jerking his body with several small erratic thrusts.
For what felt like a long time - but wasn’t even a minute - they were frozen in place, both panting heavily. Reid’s body gave out first, his knees slipping and planting him flat on his front on the bed. Morgan toppled onto him a second later, his chest aligning along the man’s back, hands gripping near to Reid’s in a futile attempt to push himself up. Reid wanted to tell him he didn’t mind Morgan’s weight covering him, his lingering hardness still buried in him. At Reid’s neck he could feel the other man’s hot breath ghosting over his damp skin. He wanted to close the inch between their hands and slip his fingers between Morgan’s, but he didn’t dare.
Eventually Morgan pushed himself up as if he was doing a press up, and gently withdrew his softening cock from Reid’s still throbbing channel. He sat on the edge of the bed and rolled his shoulders.
“Don’t go,” Reid breathed as Morgan got up. He looked around, giving Reid a curious look. A hint of something like sadness plagued the man’s features as he leant his head on his arms, wrapping his forearms self consciously over his hand, fingers twisting at the hair at the back of his head, barely managing to maintain eye contact.
“I just need to pee, pretty boy,” Morgan said softly, smiling at his friend.
“Oh,” Reid sounded awkwardly. Morgan didn’t hang around, walking naked to the adjacent bathroom. It gave Reid a full view of the man’s muscled back and curved rear, which he couldn’t help but appreciate. The man let the focus of his eyes blur, soaking up the warm quiet. He heard the toilet flush and the sound of the sink running, and a moment later Morgan stepped back into view, still naked, a much calmer form than he’d been in the heat of earlier events. Reid too felt calmer, and didn’t feel the itch of need at the base of his skull for the drug that had held him captive long after he was freed from Hankel.
Morgan sat down on the bed, taking a slow breath in through his nose. Gently he reached up and brushed his fingers over the small of Reid’s back, over the small curve of one of his buttocks. Doing that and willing it not to seem like a nervous action was harder than everything sordid he’d just finished doing to the man’s body, because sex could just be sex, but touching the man in the afterglow could give away things Morgan wasn’t sure he was ready to face, or feelings that weren’t mirrored in any form by Reid.
“You okay?” he said softly, the care for his friend stronger than his reluctance. His fingers lingered against Spencer’s behind, and the man seemed to understand he was asking about whether he was okay somewhere specific.
“I’m fine,” Reid said softly, not daring to move as Morgan touched him.
“How many guys have you slept with?” Morgan asked softly. Reid shifted a little, folding his arms under his head.
“One,” he said.
“When was that?” Morgan couldn’t help but ask.
“Five minutes ago.” Reid’s face didn’t betray humour, just a soft, well-worn neutrality.
“But I thought-” Morgan looked curiously at Reid again, “you said you’d done this before.”
“I have. Alone,” Reid explained.
“Right.” Morgan nodded. He cast his gaze around the small bedroom, and Reid wondered if he was preparing to leave. But when Morgan moved, it was to stretch himself out at Reid’s side, elbow in a pillow, head in hand, looking down at the man’s face. “Reid, are you gay?” he asked finally, simply, a trace of suspicion but no judgement.
“People’s masturbatory activity isn’t a reliable indicator of their sexuality,” Reid said, even though he knew even as the words formed that Morgan had sought a simple denial or confirmation.
“I know,” Morgan assured, not wanting to seem like he was assuming facts from such little information.
“I don’t know,” Reid answered the question honestly. “I’m not really sexually experienced enough to quantify what sort of sex has fulfilled me most.” He felt in essence it was true, but the feeling he had now after having sex with Morgan was unlike any other post-coital feeling before. This was different, and it was nice.
“Most people know before they’ve done anything with either sex,” Morgan reasoned. “They just know.”
“Well, I-” Reid was beginning to feel a little flustered; he knew his social ability was what people considered abnormal or underdeveloped, to the point of many people accusing him or assuming him to have some form of autism. “I’m not sure gender is, well, for me, I’ve-”
“Don’t stress, pretty boy,” Morgan said softly, touching Reid’s back again, fingers spreading slowly against his skin. “Doesn’t matter what you are.”
Reid smiled earnestly, suppressing a shiver that ran up his spine from where Morgan’s fingers turned circles on the small of his back.
“You’re not gay,” Reid said.
“Oh?” Morgan smiled. “How can you be sure?”
“I’ve seen you with women.”
“Some gay men live their whole lives pretending to be straight,” Morgan reasoned.
“So are you?”
“No.” Morgan smiled.
“How many men have you been with?”
“A few,” Morgan lied. If he admitted that Reid was the first man he’d been with, the first since the abuse he’d suffered as a teen which he didn’t count towards his tally, it meant admitting he was inexperienced, inexpert and didn’t really know what he was doing. The ideal of admitting to that was not something Morgan could do.
“Are things going to be weird now?” Reid asked.
“No, dude, we just needed each other tonight.”
‘Just’ and ‘tonight’ meant Morgan considered this a one off. Reid did a good job of not letting his disappointment show. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to happen; Morgan was right that they’d both had what the other needed tonight, nothing more. Reid could be okay with that - he hadn’t really put much hope in anything else coming of this, even if the thoughts had crossed his mind as their bodies had moved together; he might be able to offer his body, but he had nothing else Morgan could possibly desire like that.
Morgan moved again, rearranging the bedcover over them. Reid lifted his head but otherwise lay still as Morgan did so.
“You’re staying?” he asked, looking unsure.
“It’s still tonight,” Morgan said, reaching to turn off the light. He paused with his finger on the switch. “Unless you want me to take the couch.”
“No,” Reid said. “I mean, er- you don’t have to do that.”
“Okay.” Morgan shot him a smile that disappeared in the dark as he turned off the light. He leant against the pillow and felt Reid moving, turning his back to Morgan’s form. Gently, in the protective dark he reached out, putting his hand on the top of Reid’s thigh. Spencer subtly pushed his body back a few inches, curling into the curve of Morgan’s body, smiling in the night as Morgan’s hand ran up and across, wrapping protectively around his stomach. In the dark they could both pretend that tonight existed in a vacuum, that the next time they spoke or talked or worked together wouldn’t remind them of it.
Their tonight was what they needed.
“Sex is full of lies. The body tries to tell the truth. But, it's usually too battered with rules to be heard, and bound with pretences so it can hardly move. We cripple ourselves with lies.” - Jim Morrison