Fanfic: Show Me Your Teeth [1/1]
Title: Show Me Your Teeth
Author: freakingdork
Rating: FRT
Characters: Morgan/Reid
Word Count: 649
Note: Originally written for kink!meme 4, slightly edited since then.
Prompt: Morgan/Reid. They have sex regularly, but it's an unspoken rule that there's no kissing or romance. It's just fucking. One day, quite unexpectedly during fantastic sex, one kisses the other. Positive or negative resolve, your choice! (Would be interesting for Morgan to be the kisser, since these kinds of things are usually written with Reid as the one wanting more.)
Derek wasn't entirely sure when it started, when exactly fucking Reid became more than fucking.
He knew when they'd started hooking up, that was easy - Gideon left and Reid's abandonment issues had sprung up again. The fear that Reid might turn to Dialudid probably weighed on everyone's mind, but Derek was the only one who did anything about it, at least in his mind. They were normal things, things that best friends do, like picking up a drink he could only describe as sugar with a side of coffee or accompanying him to the museum and letting him ramble about the anthropological significance of the musculus pyramidalis or ordering in and watching old sci-fi movies or just plain listening on the rare occasions that Reid had opened up to him.
What possessed Reid to take Derek's hand and place it on his crotch, biting at his neck, he didn't know and he'd probably never ask. Derek had slightly tensed at the forwardness of Reid's actions, bad memories rising to the surface, and Reid had quickly backed off, releasing the grip on his hand, whispering, "Sorry, I thought fucking would help with...actually nevermind, I wasn't thinking clearly." He stared for a moment, somewhat baffled and yet, turned on by the fact that Reid had said "fucking," before he leaned in to kiss Reid.
Hands grasped his face, stopping his lips from reaching their intended destination as Reid asserted, "No kissing, just fucking." He nodded, not entirely understanding why it had to be that way, but proceeded to latch onto Reid's ear anyway, grinning when it elicited a low, throaty moan.
There had been other decrees too. "Lock the door on your way out" when he wanted to fall asleep with Reid in his arms. "Don't call me Spencer when we're in bed" when he really didn't think it was that big of a deal. "This isn't love making" when he was being too slow or gentle. "I'd rather you'd asked me first" when he picked up lunch for the both of them as a surprise.
The rules hurt. Some times, they made him wonder if maybe fucking Reid had always been more than fucking.
The sex was sensational, always, without fail. Reid definitely had experience - Derek swore there was no way someone could learn how roll their hips like that from reading a book - and Reid could be insatiable, wanting multiple orgasms before sending him home. Derek was generally happy to oblige. The noises he could make Reid produce were sublime and addictive.
He knew he'd always remember the time he accidentally broke the rules.
That evening, he'd already made Reid come three times, so perhaps that's why Reid was allowing him to be slow and gentle, just this once. When Reid came a fourth time, Derek followed soon after, collapsing heavily next to a blissed out Reid. Before he realized what he was doing, he tenderly kissed Reid's temple and Reid pulled away as if he'd touched a hot stove, staring at him with wide eyes.
"What are you doing?" Reid cautiously asked.
The confused and wary look Reid was giving him made him feel unusually embarrassed. "I ahh...it just seemed right."
"Umm...I thought..." Reid started, staring at him more intensely, as if he were searching for something beneath the surface. "Oh shit. I mean, with all those girls you seemed rather able to view sex in a way that...I guess I thought we could just fuck and you wouldn't...shit. Shit. Morgan, I'm not...I don't..."
Derek nodded, trying to silence Reid from saying anything that would break him entirely. "I, well...don't worry about it. I'll lock the door on my way out," he stated as he pulled on his jeans.
"Morgan, I'm sorry," Reid sincerely said.
"I'm not," he responded as he walked out of Reid's bedroom for the last time.
A/N -
1) Originally, I had two endings, but came to the conclusion that I only liked the first one I wrote. Even with my prefered ending, this is still my least favorite fic out of the four I've written.
2) Because I can't stand making up shit for Spencer, there is, in fact, a paper on the anthropological significance of the musculus pyramidalis (and in keeping with continuity, it was written 2 years before this even takes place so it is possible he could have read it, lol).