Elephant's Memory
Title: Elephant's Memory
Author: Gehddit
Spoilers: 3x16 Elephant's Memory
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Summary: Set directly after Elephant's Memory, Morgan takes issue with Reid putting himself at risk (surprise, surprise). Nakedness ensues.
A/N: This plot line (and I use that term lightly) feels like a practical right of passage in this fandom, so I thought I'd start off my authordum with one of the classics ;) I see a lot of people write that there is no way they would be able to maintain their jobs if this is how they would react to each other almost getting shot/poisoned/blown up/tortured (this list could go on forever) and honestly I totally agree, but the frantic 'I almost lost you"-ness of it all is just too good to resist.
“There’s a man going round taking names,” Reid speaks the words instead of singing them, repeating them over and over again, first in his head and then out loud when the lyrics threaten to drive him insane. With every loop a different image of what Owen had been through flashes into his mind, turning even the most menial tasks; slipping his ratty sweatpants on under his baggy t-shirt, into a virtual obstacle course. He begins pulling back his comforter for what he knows will be a night of fruitless attempts at sleep when he hears a heavy knock on his front door. He sighs. This is a knock he knows, a knock that is less requesting entry and more signaling the immanent destruction of your entry way.
“Come on, kid, open up!” Another insistent knock, loud and likely disturbing the neighbors and Reid is quickly making his way to his door’s rescue, dread filling him with every step. He is really not ready to have this conversation and had really been looking forward to coming home and not sleeping for ten hours. “Reid!” Morgan’s shout was cut short by Reid throwing the door open wide and out of Morgan’s reach. “We need to talk about today.” Morgan’s tone left no room for argument as he pushes past Reid, heading straight for the kitchen where he pulls two mugs out of the dish rack. Reid resolutely does not roll his eyes, instead deciding to follow Morgan back down the hall. Leaning his back against the refrigerator on the other side of the kitchen, he crosses his arms, watching Morgan divvy out the rest of the coffee. He waits a beat or two for Morgan to speak, but he's tired and the silence has already stretched on too long. Reid lets out a huff, giving Morgan’s back a hard stare, his intensity making up for the fact that he’d never be able to say this to Morgan’s face.
“Can we skip the lecture? I already heard it from Hotch.” What was already a very tense Morgan becomes a near statuesque Morgan, his shoulders snapping back, arms rigid. Reid’s heart rate may have doubled, as the now empty coffee pot is slammed back into place. He has never been afraid of Morgan like how an Unsub might be afraid of him, like those sick men trapped behind one way glass, but just because Morgan would never hit Reid doesn’t mean he would never hurt Reid. He was becoming increasingly aware of how much potential there was for hurt there and it scared him more and more each day. Each case that had Morgan jumping in front of bullets, each time they lost a kid and a little bit of Morgan went with them. The truth was Morgan contained infinite potential to hurt him and right now Reid was scared, terrified, because the look on Morgan’s face told him whatever he thought the worst of the pain this man could bring him was laughable compared to what he was about to get.
“Lecture? You think I’m here to lecture you? Tell you about how you endangered the team? How you could’ve hurt the team?” Morgan was deathly quiet, pressing closer with every word. The further Reid pushed back against the refrigerator, the more he seemed to draw Morgan in. “Well I’m not Hotch, and when I was out there watching some kid that had just killed seven people point a double barrel at your bare chest, I could not have given a flying fuck about the team!” Reid jumped at the curse, but it only made Morgan push in closer, mere inches from him now. If Reid wasn’t physically one with his fridge their noses would be touching. “You put yourself at the end of that kids killing spree unarmed and unprotected and I couldn’t-“ a breath “you wouldn’t let me get the shot. I wouldn’t have been able to-“ There was a sound unlike any Reid had ever heard him produce before, almost choking and he is covered knee to chest in Morgan, painful hands on his hips and Morgan’s head buried in his neck. Reid is rendered frozen by the closeness, heat seeping into every pore of him, every nerve on fire before feeling a shudder wrack through his friend. His friend who is drowning, clinging to him for air, and Reid is just standing there. Regaining control of his limbs, Reid brings his arms around Morgan’s back in his best attempt at physical comfort, awkward in spite of himself.
“It’s not your job to protect me, Morgan.” The whispered words are spoken as an offering, to soothe, to ease the fear coursing through Morgan thick as blood. The immediate tensing of what felt like the whole of Morgan’s body and the almost growl that tears through him is the absolute last thing Reid expected his statement to provoke. Suddenly nose to nose again, Morgan’s hands fisted in Reid’s collar.
“That is my only job!” And Reid was feeling a little less sympathetic. He was past done being the burden, the babysat, the kid.
“I am not your- your responsibility!” He wraps his hands around Morgan’s wrists and gives a futile tug. Another growl and there is barely a micrometer left between them.
“You are!” There's another wrench of his collar, sliding him further down the refrigerator beneath Morgan and Reid pulls at his wrists again, frantic now, but for what he has no idea. Morgan however was having none of it, tightening his grip. “That is exactly what you are! My job, my responsibility-“
“Morgan!” Reid is mortified to hear the name slip from him in a near whimper, but his embarrassment is cut short.
“You are mine!” Is said directly into Reid’s mouth before it is completely covered by Morgan’s, pulling Reid up by his shirt just to be pushed back down by Morgan’s weight. Reid is instantly burning with need; the utter obliteration of Pandora ’s Box, though he is far more scared of what he may let in than of what he knew he was letting out. With no way to bring him closer, Reid tugs at Morgan’s sleeves, his right hand pulling at a forearm and his left a bicep, a frustrated whimper making its way up his throat. Catching on to Reid’s frustrations, Morgan slides his arms around Reid’s back, wide hands pressing them together. Reid’s hips fly up into Morgan’s at the touch, and he feels a thigh slip between legs, one hand sliding to his ass, encouraging Reid’s movement. He loses himself in the sensation of strong hardened muscle against his cock before a particularly sporadic thrust brings it flush against Morgan’s and an embarrassingly breathy moan is punched out of him. The sound spurs Morgan’s hips forward hard, slamming Reid back against metal with a low groan and his hands immediately begin scrambling at Morgan’s belt. Morgan grunts his agreement, slipping his hands under Reid’s shirt and wrenching it off of him in one smooth motion. Reid lets out a frustrated sound at having been interrupted and goes back to the seemingly impossible task of removing the belt. Morgan clearly has other plans however as he pulls back from Reid who whines his disapproval, apparently having given up on the idea of retaining any semblance of his dignity throughout this process. He's silenced by Morgan leaning in for another hard kiss, still keeping his hips at a distance. “Right here baby, I’m not going anywhere.” Is mumbled against his lips before there are hands pulling down the waist band of his pajamas and a tongue in pushing against his. It takes a moment for Reid to realize he is stripped completely naked beneath a fully clothed Morgan and he twists his mouth free.
“Morgan!” he complains, tugging again at the belt he's almost positive is doing this on purpose. If Morgan wasn’t still so furious with him, if this had come about under different circumstances Reid thinks he may have teased him. Is this our genius’s one weakness? Belts? Reid saw them having that, that easy playfulness, not too different from their everyday and his gut clenches at the idea both in fear and in anticipation. Reid has no idea what is to follow this, why Morgan started it or when he would be finished with it. But whatever this brought about, right now he knows Morgan is in no mood for games. Hands close over Reid’s, bringing them up, under Morgan’s shirt while he takes on the belt. Getting the message, Reid waits for Morgan to pull the black leather from his waist before yanking the shirt over Morgan’s head. Morgan opens his jeans, pushing them down just far enough to free his erection and instantly moving to press them back together. The heat he brings with him causing Reid to literally weaken at the knees, sliding an inch or so. Morgan groans.
“Not yet pretty boy, not yet. Stay with me.” Is breathed into his ear before he is lifted fully off of the ground by Morgan’s hands on his hips. His legs instinctually wrapping around Morgan’s waist, he is all but carried to the nearby countertop. As soon as Reid’s ass hits the surface Morgan flattens him against the cool granite, the naked skin of his cock rutting against Morgan’s. He lets out a choked cry, his eyes slamming shut and tightening his legs around Morgan’s hips, urging him closer. One hand clamps Reid’s wrists together above his head and the other holds his jaw, Morgan in complete control. “Look at me.” Morgan practically snarls, but Reid is too lost in the feeling of Morgan above him. “Reid, look at me.” This time it's a plea, weak and desperate and Reid’s eyes snap open, locking onto Morgan’s. His hand smoothes over Reid’s face, thumb tracing his eyebrow as his hips continue their ever increasing pace and he looks bone chillingly afraid. “You almost left me. You weighed your life against his, almost left like it was your decision to make.” His thrusts are coming harder now, moving at a near punishing pace. “You stood between me and someone who would take you from me.”
“Morgan, please!“ It's too much, the countertop screeching under the strain of his movements. Reid’s back arching, his hands desperately trying to pull free, burning to touch any and every part of Morgan he can reach.
“No one will ever take you away from me. I won’t, I can’t, I can’t let them take you from me.” Releasing Reid from his grip, Morgan winds his arms around Reid’s waist and lifts him up from the counter, taking all of his weight. Reid wraps his arms around Morgan’s neck, biting into it, the pressure building in him nearing its peak with Morgan continuing to whisper in his ear. “I’m never gonna stop holding you like this, never going to stop and then they’ll all know. Everyone will know you belong to me.” With that everything in Reid pulls tight, white hot pleasure spiking through him as he cries out. The body holding him seizes, pumping through his completion, both men covered in the remnants of their orgasms. They’re panting, Reid giving Morgan all of his weight and Morgan not yet relinquishing his hold. After a few moments to catch their breath, Morgan sets Reid back on the counter, his hands making their way to Reid’s face, ever so gently cupping his cheeks and pulling him back to meet his eyes. “Hey, you ok?” Reid isn't sure how he feels about that question. To be fair Reid isn't sure how he feels about the whole fucking his best friend in his kitchen thing in general, but he knows he doesn’t like the looks of where this conversation might be going. Deciding on humor Reid smirks.
“Sticky, but satisfied.” His efforts are rewarded with a hesitant smile breaking over Morgan’s face.
“Yeah I’m pretty good at the satisfied part.” Morgan’s voice is low, but amused and Reid feels instantaneous relief that Morgan doesn’t think he’s done something to Reid or however it is Morgan’s hero complex works. Though Morgan still seems to be searching for something in Reid, but he's determined to keep the mood light.
“And the sticky part apparently.” In a rare strike of boldness Reid runs a finger through the cum painted over Morgan’s abs. A shudder wracks through Morgan, forcing out a small groan and he tugs Reid closer, pushing their foreheads together.
“You’re killing me kid. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep my hands off you now.” There’s a question in there and though Reid knows his answer, years of cruelty and jokes made at his expense have him nauseous at the idea of voicing it. Picking up on Reid’s anxiety, Morgan pulls back, placing a hand on Reid’s shoulder in a move that is so typical to them that Reid looks up at Morgan out of habit alone. “You know you don’t have to want this. Nothing’s gonna change between us if you don’t want it to. I’m your friend first Reid, you know that right?” Perfect, always so perfect every time, but he still can't quite-
“It’s not that I don’t- I want to, I mean-“ He flaps his hands up and down in front of him as though Morgan needs reminding of what they had just done. Given the look on his face as his eyes raked over Reid’s body, he really, really didn’t.
“Alright, okay, but then can you tell me why you look like Hotch just offered you a lap dance?” Reid’s mouth falls open in shock, the images popping into his head making his brain want to self-destruct. Morgan is laughing, his first real laugh since the start of the case, all white teeth and warm eyes. “Seriously though,” Morgan starts once he recovers, “you know that this is something I want. I mean you do know that?” Reid nods and Morgan continues. “So if you want this too, what am I missing?”
“This could get really bad Morgan.” The humor in Morgan’s expression disappears, a level of seriousness he usually reserves for their more gruesome cases there in its stead.
“Yeah, yeah I know.” He's nodding, this sentiment clearly being one Morgan has already considered.
“But you’re ok with that?” Reid can’t look at Morgan, can’t watch him change his mind or worse, not even consider changing it.
“Reid our whole lives are a series of one really bad after another, at least with this we’ll get some fucking happiness in between.”
“Yeah except all the really bads will only be that much worse with this, with the possibility of losing this following us around every corner, every crime scene.”
“We’ll handle it.” He looks so sure of himself and Reid can’t decide if he wants to laugh or scream.
“Handle it? Morgan, look at us! We’re naked, covered in each other’s, well you know,” He flushes, but soldiers on, “and all because of something we both know that, if necessary, I will do again!”
“No you fucking will not-“ Morgan starts, his anger back full force, but an exasperated Reid cut him off.
“Yes I will! I will just like you’ll always go to tackle the Unsub, like how you’re always the one to go in first, and sit with a woman whose car is rigged to explode so she’s not alone. And it kills me Morgan! Every time, every time you just barely make it out it kills me, but that’s the job. It’s who we are and I don’t know if we can do that and have this.” The truth in it is crippling, making Reid feel oddly vulnerable and he finds himself wishing he had some clothes on. The anger leaves Morgan as quickly as it had come and in its place is something Reid can’t identify, but it has his heart hammering in his chest.
“I might get blown up, I might get shot. You might-“ never taking his eyes from Reid’s, Morgan brings his hands up to Reid’s neck “you might get shot, kidnapped.” A light squeeze. “Hell the jet might fall out of the sky-“
“Actually the statistical likelihood of-“ Reid silences himself at Morgan’s look.
“The jet might defy all odds and fall out of the sky, but on all of the days that doesn’t happen? Those are the days I am going to take you back here, or back to my place and touch you,” He moves back into Reid’s space, mouth next to his ear and hands moving over his chest, “fuck you,” down past his hips, “spend as much time with you,” Reid hisses as a hand encircles his still sensitive cock, “as is humanly possible.” Morgan finishes, giving Reid a light squeeze before releasing him. Reid lets loose a small moan and feels Morgan smile against his ear. “Think we can manage that?” Reid turns his head, pulling at Morgan’s neck until he can feel that smile against his lips, only for it to broaden. The kiss quickly deepens, and with no desire to break it Reid speaks against Morgan’s mouth.
“I’m thinking we can definitely manage that.”
“Yeah?” Another grin.
“Yeah, like maybe we should manage it right now.” Reid is momentarily side tracked by Morgan’s tongue in his mouth, unable to finish his thought until he moves on to Reid’s neck. “Manage it in the shower.” Morgan groans and licks his way up Reid’s neck.
“There’s my genius.”
Author: Gehddit
Spoilers: 3x16 Elephant's Memory
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Summary: Set directly after Elephant's Memory, Morgan takes issue with Reid putting himself at risk (surprise, surprise). Nakedness ensues.
A/N: This plot line (and I use that term lightly) feels like a practical right of passage in this fandom, so I thought I'd start off my authordum with one of the classics ;) I see a lot of people write that there is no way they would be able to maintain their jobs if this is how they would react to each other almost getting shot/poisoned/blown up/tortured (this list could go on forever) and honestly I totally agree, but the frantic 'I almost lost you"-ness of it all is just too good to resist.
“There’s a man going round taking names,” Reid speaks the words instead of singing them, repeating them over and over again, first in his head and then out loud when the lyrics threaten to drive him insane. With every loop a different image of what Owen had been through flashes into his mind, turning even the most menial tasks; slipping his ratty sweatpants on under his baggy t-shirt, into a virtual obstacle course. He begins pulling back his comforter for what he knows will be a night of fruitless attempts at sleep when he hears a heavy knock on his front door. He sighs. This is a knock he knows, a knock that is less requesting entry and more signaling the immanent destruction of your entry way.
“Come on, kid, open up!” Another insistent knock, loud and likely disturbing the neighbors and Reid is quickly making his way to his door’s rescue, dread filling him with every step. He is really not ready to have this conversation and had really been looking forward to coming home and not sleeping for ten hours. “Reid!” Morgan’s shout was cut short by Reid throwing the door open wide and out of Morgan’s reach. “We need to talk about today.” Morgan’s tone left no room for argument as he pushes past Reid, heading straight for the kitchen where he pulls two mugs out of the dish rack. Reid resolutely does not roll his eyes, instead deciding to follow Morgan back down the hall. Leaning his back against the refrigerator on the other side of the kitchen, he crosses his arms, watching Morgan divvy out the rest of the coffee. He waits a beat or two for Morgan to speak, but he's tired and the silence has already stretched on too long. Reid lets out a huff, giving Morgan’s back a hard stare, his intensity making up for the fact that he’d never be able to say this to Morgan’s face.
“Can we skip the lecture? I already heard it from Hotch.” What was already a very tense Morgan becomes a near statuesque Morgan, his shoulders snapping back, arms rigid. Reid’s heart rate may have doubled, as the now empty coffee pot is slammed back into place. He has never been afraid of Morgan like how an Unsub might be afraid of him, like those sick men trapped behind one way glass, but just because Morgan would never hit Reid doesn’t mean he would never hurt Reid. He was becoming increasingly aware of how much potential there was for hurt there and it scared him more and more each day. Each case that had Morgan jumping in front of bullets, each time they lost a kid and a little bit of Morgan went with them. The truth was Morgan contained infinite potential to hurt him and right now Reid was scared, terrified, because the look on Morgan’s face told him whatever he thought the worst of the pain this man could bring him was laughable compared to what he was about to get.
“Lecture? You think I’m here to lecture you? Tell you about how you endangered the team? How you could’ve hurt the team?” Morgan was deathly quiet, pressing closer with every word. The further Reid pushed back against the refrigerator, the more he seemed to draw Morgan in. “Well I’m not Hotch, and when I was out there watching some kid that had just killed seven people point a double barrel at your bare chest, I could not have given a flying fuck about the team!” Reid jumped at the curse, but it only made Morgan push in closer, mere inches from him now. If Reid wasn’t physically one with his fridge their noses would be touching. “You put yourself at the end of that kids killing spree unarmed and unprotected and I couldn’t-“ a breath “you wouldn’t let me get the shot. I wouldn’t have been able to-“ There was a sound unlike any Reid had ever heard him produce before, almost choking and he is covered knee to chest in Morgan, painful hands on his hips and Morgan’s head buried in his neck. Reid is rendered frozen by the closeness, heat seeping into every pore of him, every nerve on fire before feeling a shudder wrack through his friend. His friend who is drowning, clinging to him for air, and Reid is just standing there. Regaining control of his limbs, Reid brings his arms around Morgan’s back in his best attempt at physical comfort, awkward in spite of himself.
“It’s not your job to protect me, Morgan.” The whispered words are spoken as an offering, to soothe, to ease the fear coursing through Morgan thick as blood. The immediate tensing of what felt like the whole of Morgan’s body and the almost growl that tears through him is the absolute last thing Reid expected his statement to provoke. Suddenly nose to nose again, Morgan’s hands fisted in Reid’s collar.
“That is my only job!” And Reid was feeling a little less sympathetic. He was past done being the burden, the babysat, the kid.
“I am not your- your responsibility!” He wraps his hands around Morgan’s wrists and gives a futile tug. Another growl and there is barely a micrometer left between them.
“You are!” There's another wrench of his collar, sliding him further down the refrigerator beneath Morgan and Reid pulls at his wrists again, frantic now, but for what he has no idea. Morgan however was having none of it, tightening his grip. “That is exactly what you are! My job, my responsibility-“
“Morgan!” Reid is mortified to hear the name slip from him in a near whimper, but his embarrassment is cut short.
“You are mine!” Is said directly into Reid’s mouth before it is completely covered by Morgan’s, pulling Reid up by his shirt just to be pushed back down by Morgan’s weight. Reid is instantly burning with need; the utter obliteration of Pandora ’s Box, though he is far more scared of what he may let in than of what he knew he was letting out. With no way to bring him closer, Reid tugs at Morgan’s sleeves, his right hand pulling at a forearm and his left a bicep, a frustrated whimper making its way up his throat. Catching on to Reid’s frustrations, Morgan slides his arms around Reid’s back, wide hands pressing them together. Reid’s hips fly up into Morgan’s at the touch, and he feels a thigh slip between legs, one hand sliding to his ass, encouraging Reid’s movement. He loses himself in the sensation of strong hardened muscle against his cock before a particularly sporadic thrust brings it flush against Morgan’s and an embarrassingly breathy moan is punched out of him. The sound spurs Morgan’s hips forward hard, slamming Reid back against metal with a low groan and his hands immediately begin scrambling at Morgan’s belt. Morgan grunts his agreement, slipping his hands under Reid’s shirt and wrenching it off of him in one smooth motion. Reid lets out a frustrated sound at having been interrupted and goes back to the seemingly impossible task of removing the belt. Morgan clearly has other plans however as he pulls back from Reid who whines his disapproval, apparently having given up on the idea of retaining any semblance of his dignity throughout this process. He's silenced by Morgan leaning in for another hard kiss, still keeping his hips at a distance. “Right here baby, I’m not going anywhere.” Is mumbled against his lips before there are hands pulling down the waist band of his pajamas and a tongue in pushing against his. It takes a moment for Reid to realize he is stripped completely naked beneath a fully clothed Morgan and he twists his mouth free.
“Morgan!” he complains, tugging again at the belt he's almost positive is doing this on purpose. If Morgan wasn’t still so furious with him, if this had come about under different circumstances Reid thinks he may have teased him. Is this our genius’s one weakness? Belts? Reid saw them having that, that easy playfulness, not too different from their everyday and his gut clenches at the idea both in fear and in anticipation. Reid has no idea what is to follow this, why Morgan started it or when he would be finished with it. But whatever this brought about, right now he knows Morgan is in no mood for games. Hands close over Reid’s, bringing them up, under Morgan’s shirt while he takes on the belt. Getting the message, Reid waits for Morgan to pull the black leather from his waist before yanking the shirt over Morgan’s head. Morgan opens his jeans, pushing them down just far enough to free his erection and instantly moving to press them back together. The heat he brings with him causing Reid to literally weaken at the knees, sliding an inch or so. Morgan groans.
“Not yet pretty boy, not yet. Stay with me.” Is breathed into his ear before he is lifted fully off of the ground by Morgan’s hands on his hips. His legs instinctually wrapping around Morgan’s waist, he is all but carried to the nearby countertop. As soon as Reid’s ass hits the surface Morgan flattens him against the cool granite, the naked skin of his cock rutting against Morgan’s. He lets out a choked cry, his eyes slamming shut and tightening his legs around Morgan’s hips, urging him closer. One hand clamps Reid’s wrists together above his head and the other holds his jaw, Morgan in complete control. “Look at me.” Morgan practically snarls, but Reid is too lost in the feeling of Morgan above him. “Reid, look at me.” This time it's a plea, weak and desperate and Reid’s eyes snap open, locking onto Morgan’s. His hand smoothes over Reid’s face, thumb tracing his eyebrow as his hips continue their ever increasing pace and he looks bone chillingly afraid. “You almost left me. You weighed your life against his, almost left like it was your decision to make.” His thrusts are coming harder now, moving at a near punishing pace. “You stood between me and someone who would take you from me.”
“Morgan, please!“ It's too much, the countertop screeching under the strain of his movements. Reid’s back arching, his hands desperately trying to pull free, burning to touch any and every part of Morgan he can reach.
“No one will ever take you away from me. I won’t, I can’t, I can’t let them take you from me.” Releasing Reid from his grip, Morgan winds his arms around Reid’s waist and lifts him up from the counter, taking all of his weight. Reid wraps his arms around Morgan’s neck, biting into it, the pressure building in him nearing its peak with Morgan continuing to whisper in his ear. “I’m never gonna stop holding you like this, never going to stop and then they’ll all know. Everyone will know you belong to me.” With that everything in Reid pulls tight, white hot pleasure spiking through him as he cries out. The body holding him seizes, pumping through his completion, both men covered in the remnants of their orgasms. They’re panting, Reid giving Morgan all of his weight and Morgan not yet relinquishing his hold. After a few moments to catch their breath, Morgan sets Reid back on the counter, his hands making their way to Reid’s face, ever so gently cupping his cheeks and pulling him back to meet his eyes. “Hey, you ok?” Reid isn't sure how he feels about that question. To be fair Reid isn't sure how he feels about the whole fucking his best friend in his kitchen thing in general, but he knows he doesn’t like the looks of where this conversation might be going. Deciding on humor Reid smirks.
“Sticky, but satisfied.” His efforts are rewarded with a hesitant smile breaking over Morgan’s face.
“Yeah I’m pretty good at the satisfied part.” Morgan’s voice is low, but amused and Reid feels instantaneous relief that Morgan doesn’t think he’s done something to Reid or however it is Morgan’s hero complex works. Though Morgan still seems to be searching for something in Reid, but he's determined to keep the mood light.
“And the sticky part apparently.” In a rare strike of boldness Reid runs a finger through the cum painted over Morgan’s abs. A shudder wracks through Morgan, forcing out a small groan and he tugs Reid closer, pushing their foreheads together.
“You’re killing me kid. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep my hands off you now.” There’s a question in there and though Reid knows his answer, years of cruelty and jokes made at his expense have him nauseous at the idea of voicing it. Picking up on Reid’s anxiety, Morgan pulls back, placing a hand on Reid’s shoulder in a move that is so typical to them that Reid looks up at Morgan out of habit alone. “You know you don’t have to want this. Nothing’s gonna change between us if you don’t want it to. I’m your friend first Reid, you know that right?” Perfect, always so perfect every time, but he still can't quite-
“It’s not that I don’t- I want to, I mean-“ He flaps his hands up and down in front of him as though Morgan needs reminding of what they had just done. Given the look on his face as his eyes raked over Reid’s body, he really, really didn’t.
“Alright, okay, but then can you tell me why you look like Hotch just offered you a lap dance?” Reid’s mouth falls open in shock, the images popping into his head making his brain want to self-destruct. Morgan is laughing, his first real laugh since the start of the case, all white teeth and warm eyes. “Seriously though,” Morgan starts once he recovers, “you know that this is something I want. I mean you do know that?” Reid nods and Morgan continues. “So if you want this too, what am I missing?”
“This could get really bad Morgan.” The humor in Morgan’s expression disappears, a level of seriousness he usually reserves for their more gruesome cases there in its stead.
“Yeah, yeah I know.” He's nodding, this sentiment clearly being one Morgan has already considered.
“But you’re ok with that?” Reid can’t look at Morgan, can’t watch him change his mind or worse, not even consider changing it.
“Reid our whole lives are a series of one really bad after another, at least with this we’ll get some fucking happiness in between.”
“Yeah except all the really bads will only be that much worse with this, with the possibility of losing this following us around every corner, every crime scene.”
“We’ll handle it.” He looks so sure of himself and Reid can’t decide if he wants to laugh or scream.
“Handle it? Morgan, look at us! We’re naked, covered in each other’s, well you know,” He flushes, but soldiers on, “and all because of something we both know that, if necessary, I will do again!”
“No you fucking will not-“ Morgan starts, his anger back full force, but an exasperated Reid cut him off.
“Yes I will! I will just like you’ll always go to tackle the Unsub, like how you’re always the one to go in first, and sit with a woman whose car is rigged to explode so she’s not alone. And it kills me Morgan! Every time, every time you just barely make it out it kills me, but that’s the job. It’s who we are and I don’t know if we can do that and have this.” The truth in it is crippling, making Reid feel oddly vulnerable and he finds himself wishing he had some clothes on. The anger leaves Morgan as quickly as it had come and in its place is something Reid can’t identify, but it has his heart hammering in his chest.
“I might get blown up, I might get shot. You might-“ never taking his eyes from Reid’s, Morgan brings his hands up to Reid’s neck “you might get shot, kidnapped.” A light squeeze. “Hell the jet might fall out of the sky-“
“Actually the statistical likelihood of-“ Reid silences himself at Morgan’s look.
“The jet might defy all odds and fall out of the sky, but on all of the days that doesn’t happen? Those are the days I am going to take you back here, or back to my place and touch you,” He moves back into Reid’s space, mouth next to his ear and hands moving over his chest, “fuck you,” down past his hips, “spend as much time with you,” Reid hisses as a hand encircles his still sensitive cock, “as is humanly possible.” Morgan finishes, giving Reid a light squeeze before releasing him. Reid lets loose a small moan and feels Morgan smile against his ear. “Think we can manage that?” Reid turns his head, pulling at Morgan’s neck until he can feel that smile against his lips, only for it to broaden. The kiss quickly deepens, and with no desire to break it Reid speaks against Morgan’s mouth.
“I’m thinking we can definitely manage that.”
“Yeah?” Another grin.
“Yeah, like maybe we should manage it right now.” Reid is momentarily side tracked by Morgan’s tongue in his mouth, unable to finish his thought until he moves on to Reid’s neck. “Manage it in the shower.” Morgan groans and licks his way up Reid’s neck.
“There’s my genius.”