Don't Be Afraid of My Intentions
Title:Don't Be Afraid of My Intentions
Author:icky_crane
Rating: PG-13, maybe a little more.
Characters/Pairings:Morgan/Reid
Spoilers/Warnings:None.
Summary:"I think you're sleep deprived."
Disclaimer:Pure, Ungodly, Fiction.
Don't Be Afraid of My Intentions
Spencer Reid felt alone, and basically, he was. The evening had vastly approached through the lone window set in the center of his living room. The darkness cradling seductively against the nape of his neck, mocking him. The fear paralyzing his body to the recliner in which he sat. Reid was far too afraid to seek out any real source of light, and nothing could describe exactly how childish this all made the young Doctor feel.
Though, in his defense, Reid had not moved in over five hours, with the exception of using the bathroom once or twice, but no more than that.
With what limited vision the young man had, he took a questionable look around at his cluttered surroundings. 'Cluttered with what?' he thought dreadfully, snorting all too loudly, even to himself, but Spencer was much too exhausted to care at current. There was nothing in the cramped space that could be considered of importance, nothing substantial or meaningful everything was detached of actual feeling.
Books upon books, each stacked upon each other through out various places as his shelves had all but overflowed. Pieces of literature he had inked into his mind forever; cover to cover, chapter to chapter, page to page, and word for word. Nothing vacated his fridge other than a half frost-bitten, two day old pizza and a bottle of strawberry flavored water. For a genius, Spencer Reid was a sight to be seen, but he was a sorry excuse for a man, and a waste of a human being.
Spencer's head throbbed, and his heart ached almost uncontrollably, and just when he thought he could bare nothing more than to drown in his own sorrowful musings, there came a heavy, concerning, knock to his door. The sudden rush of sound to his eardrums had startled Reid, jolting him forward and sending him deeper into the abyss of his so-called home. He had no other choice than to carry on through the darkened room and to the door, barely lit by the small nightlight that rested in his kitchen. Reid paused for a moment before opening the door in one swift, fluid, motion. Light pooling in as he did so.
“Your phone not working?”
“No, the battery died. Why, do we have a case?”
“No, I was just worried,” Morgan announced, the false, fluorescent, lighting falling over the older males figure, giving him a charming glow, and for a moment, Reid had forgotten that the other had spoke.
“Oh,” he says, a little clueless as to why Morgan would care enough about his well being to come over to his place at twelve o'clock in the morning, but then he thought about how Morgan was known for this sort of thing.
“So, are you okay? Scratch that, what's wrong with you?” If there was any hope of Reid scrambling out of this conversation, it had certainly died there. Morgan moved past the slender male, complaining of how dark and lonesome Reid's apartment was before turning on a multitude of lights. It occurred to Reid then that either Morgan had just as good a memory as he did to remember where all the lamps and light switches were located, or he had just been to Reid's apartment far more than he should have.
“I, uh, what makes you think there's anything wrong with me?” Reid questions as Morgan moves to stand in the center of his living room, eyebrow raising just slightly as he looks to the younger incredulously.
“Come on, Spence. I know you.”
“No, you don't,” Spencer retaliates a little rushed, and a lot flustered. Derek did know all there was to Spencer Reid, all too well. Spencer felt almost watched upon, couldn't a man dwell in his thoughts for a few days without constant inspection from the ones who surrounded him?
“I don't, do I? So, why then do you have a copy of 'Oliver Twist' on your night stand? You only read it when you're feeling down, kid.”
“I'm not a kid.”
“I know you're not,” he says, voice calm and completely reasonable. This was not the outcome Spencer had intended. He wanted to get a rise out of the older male, push him away, but it seemed he was only bringing Morgan closer to him, and not just figuratively.
Taking in a deep, soothing breath and exhaling slowly, Spencer was able to calm his nerves to some degree, but only slightly.
“I don't know,”
“You don't know what?”
“I don't know what's wrong with me,” Reid spews, hands waving about in the air as his feet moved around his carpeted floor, as his mind moved ten times faster, “everything...nothing!” Spencer could never quite figure out what it was about Morgan that made him want to spill his inner most thoughts to him, his heart. It gave him a sense of relief, and unnerved him all at the very same time. Those intoxicating dark orbs Spencer had come to both admire and dread fell upon him, Derek's body looming awfully close to Reid's, too close to be considered decent.
“You've been thinking way too much.”
“That's all I ever do, Derek,” Reid points out, a smile pulling at the corners of Morgan's mouth as his eyes twinkled in delight.
“Do you find that amusing?” Reid inquires slightly annoyed, and slightly confused at the same time by the other mans odd mannerisms.
“Nope.”
“So, why then are you smiling at me like that?”
“You called me Derek.”
“That is your name.”
“Mhm...” Those orbs are not focused on Spencer though anymore, they are quite occupied with his lips than anything else. A fit of nerves filtered through Reid's stomach like butterflies, as cliché as the expression is, it was exactly the way he felt.
“I think you're sleep deprived,” Reid replies, his last vain attempt to stop the inevitable. This would not be the first time that Derek Morgan had kissed Spencer, but it was certainly more exclusive, intimate this time around. This seemed to be their game of sorts; make out, fool around, and pretend the whole thing never happened the next morning...except, except this time seemed different somehow.
Nothing much was said as they moved together, nothing more than 'bed' and 'naked, now.' There was a difference in how Morgan's lips caressed against his collarbone, and how his fingertips held his hips securely, bruising his pale flesh just slightly with the pressure he created. Spencer couldn't quite place what had changed as he was soon devoured by his own pleasure. Yes, Spencer was in a rather dark place, but he was certainly not alone by any means. He felt safe in Derek's embrace, loved with every thrust of his body, every twist of cotton sheets, and every sinful prayer released through kiss swollen lips...
When morning came, and doughy brown eyes slowly opened, Reid was surprised to see Morgan still nestled by his side, head lulled against a lean shoulder. Spencer smiled sleepily to himself as Derek rolled over, bringing forth the morning rays with him as they danced across his smooth skin. Golden strands bringing some peace to Spencer's otherwise tainted mind as he rests his head upon Morgan's chest, simply listening to the way his heart beat in sync with his very own. A strong hand tangling into unkempt curls, a light brighter than any other playing against Spencer's closed eyelids, keeping the dark at out for the time being.
Author:icky_crane
Rating: PG-13, maybe a little more.
Characters/Pairings:Morgan/Reid
Spoilers/Warnings:None.
Summary:"I think you're sleep deprived."
Disclaimer:Pure, Ungodly, Fiction.
Don't Be Afraid of My Intentions
Spencer Reid felt alone, and basically, he was. The evening had vastly approached through the lone window set in the center of his living room. The darkness cradling seductively against the nape of his neck, mocking him. The fear paralyzing his body to the recliner in which he sat. Reid was far too afraid to seek out any real source of light, and nothing could describe exactly how childish this all made the young Doctor feel.
Though, in his defense, Reid had not moved in over five hours, with the exception of using the bathroom once or twice, but no more than that.
With what limited vision the young man had, he took a questionable look around at his cluttered surroundings. 'Cluttered with what?' he thought dreadfully, snorting all too loudly, even to himself, but Spencer was much too exhausted to care at current. There was nothing in the cramped space that could be considered of importance, nothing substantial or meaningful everything was detached of actual feeling.
Books upon books, each stacked upon each other through out various places as his shelves had all but overflowed. Pieces of literature he had inked into his mind forever; cover to cover, chapter to chapter, page to page, and word for word. Nothing vacated his fridge other than a half frost-bitten, two day old pizza and a bottle of strawberry flavored water. For a genius, Spencer Reid was a sight to be seen, but he was a sorry excuse for a man, and a waste of a human being.
Spencer's head throbbed, and his heart ached almost uncontrollably, and just when he thought he could bare nothing more than to drown in his own sorrowful musings, there came a heavy, concerning, knock to his door. The sudden rush of sound to his eardrums had startled Reid, jolting him forward and sending him deeper into the abyss of his so-called home. He had no other choice than to carry on through the darkened room and to the door, barely lit by the small nightlight that rested in his kitchen. Reid paused for a moment before opening the door in one swift, fluid, motion. Light pooling in as he did so.
“Your phone not working?”
“No, the battery died. Why, do we have a case?”
“No, I was just worried,” Morgan announced, the false, fluorescent, lighting falling over the older males figure, giving him a charming glow, and for a moment, Reid had forgotten that the other had spoke.
“Oh,” he says, a little clueless as to why Morgan would care enough about his well being to come over to his place at twelve o'clock in the morning, but then he thought about how Morgan was known for this sort of thing.
“So, are you okay? Scratch that, what's wrong with you?” If there was any hope of Reid scrambling out of this conversation, it had certainly died there. Morgan moved past the slender male, complaining of how dark and lonesome Reid's apartment was before turning on a multitude of lights. It occurred to Reid then that either Morgan had just as good a memory as he did to remember where all the lamps and light switches were located, or he had just been to Reid's apartment far more than he should have.
“I, uh, what makes you think there's anything wrong with me?” Reid questions as Morgan moves to stand in the center of his living room, eyebrow raising just slightly as he looks to the younger incredulously.
“Come on, Spence. I know you.”
“No, you don't,” Spencer retaliates a little rushed, and a lot flustered. Derek did know all there was to Spencer Reid, all too well. Spencer felt almost watched upon, couldn't a man dwell in his thoughts for a few days without constant inspection from the ones who surrounded him?
“I don't, do I? So, why then do you have a copy of 'Oliver Twist' on your night stand? You only read it when you're feeling down, kid.”
“I'm not a kid.”
“I know you're not,” he says, voice calm and completely reasonable. This was not the outcome Spencer had intended. He wanted to get a rise out of the older male, push him away, but it seemed he was only bringing Morgan closer to him, and not just figuratively.
Taking in a deep, soothing breath and exhaling slowly, Spencer was able to calm his nerves to some degree, but only slightly.
“I don't know,”
“You don't know what?”
“I don't know what's wrong with me,” Reid spews, hands waving about in the air as his feet moved around his carpeted floor, as his mind moved ten times faster, “everything...nothing!” Spencer could never quite figure out what it was about Morgan that made him want to spill his inner most thoughts to him, his heart. It gave him a sense of relief, and unnerved him all at the very same time. Those intoxicating dark orbs Spencer had come to both admire and dread fell upon him, Derek's body looming awfully close to Reid's, too close to be considered decent.
“You've been thinking way too much.”
“That's all I ever do, Derek,” Reid points out, a smile pulling at the corners of Morgan's mouth as his eyes twinkled in delight.
“Do you find that amusing?” Reid inquires slightly annoyed, and slightly confused at the same time by the other mans odd mannerisms.
“Nope.”
“So, why then are you smiling at me like that?”
“You called me Derek.”
“That is your name.”
“Mhm...” Those orbs are not focused on Spencer though anymore, they are quite occupied with his lips than anything else. A fit of nerves filtered through Reid's stomach like butterflies, as cliché as the expression is, it was exactly the way he felt.
“I think you're sleep deprived,” Reid replies, his last vain attempt to stop the inevitable. This would not be the first time that Derek Morgan had kissed Spencer, but it was certainly more exclusive, intimate this time around. This seemed to be their game of sorts; make out, fool around, and pretend the whole thing never happened the next morning...except, except this time seemed different somehow.
Nothing much was said as they moved together, nothing more than 'bed' and 'naked, now.' There was a difference in how Morgan's lips caressed against his collarbone, and how his fingertips held his hips securely, bruising his pale flesh just slightly with the pressure he created. Spencer couldn't quite place what had changed as he was soon devoured by his own pleasure. Yes, Spencer was in a rather dark place, but he was certainly not alone by any means. He felt safe in Derek's embrace, loved with every thrust of his body, every twist of cotton sheets, and every sinful prayer released through kiss swollen lips...
When morning came, and doughy brown eyes slowly opened, Reid was surprised to see Morgan still nestled by his side, head lulled against a lean shoulder. Spencer smiled sleepily to himself as Derek rolled over, bringing forth the morning rays with him as they danced across his smooth skin. Golden strands bringing some peace to Spencer's otherwise tainted mind as he rests his head upon Morgan's chest, simply listening to the way his heart beat in sync with his very own. A strong hand tangling into unkempt curls, a light brighter than any other playing against Spencer's closed eyelids, keeping the dark at out for the time being.