fic: "Fever" Criminal Minds (one-sided R/M?)
Title: Fever
Author: LadyJanelly
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Reid/Morgan one-sided thoughts
Summary: Reid is ill. Morgan questions himself.
Notes: This started out as a cute little h/c domestic first-time thing and then Morgan started thinking thinky thoughts on me and the tone sort of changed. Any feedback would be appreciated.
Morgan raps on the closed door. “Reid?” He calls and listens for an answer. He feels ten kinds of silly. Reid might look like an oversized twelve-year-old, all big head and skinny body, but the man is twenty four years old and doesn’t need a babysitter.
Still, he had looked like crap warmed over on Thursday and called in sick on Friday. Reid isn’t the type to call in sick when he’s not so he has to be home, right? And with over half the team already out of town for the three-day-weekend, Morgan just wouldn’t feel good leaving the kid to be sick on his own.
Nothing but quiet behind the apartment door and Morgan knocks again louder than the one before. He listens and from the other side comes a muffled rattle-thump noise and then quiet again. Hoping that he’s doing the right thing he puts his shoulder to the door, torques the knob away from the jamb and gives it a solid shove.
The chain pops free from the wall and jingles against the door and Morgan stands in Reid’s silent living room. The lights are out and if it wasn’t for the street lamp across the alleyway it would be almost fully dark. He draws his firearm and follows a faint glow past the living room and into a bedroom and from there to the bathroom where his stomach twists as he finds his missing teammate curled up on the bathmat in his pajamas. The plastic garbage can is knocked over, spilling a snowfall of wadded up tissues across the floor.
He can see Reid shivering and hear the rough rasp of his breathing. “Damn it, kid,” Morgan groans and kneels to press his palm against the hot dry of Reid’s forehead.
Reid’s eyes flicker open fever-glazed and disoriented. “Morgan?” he asks, “Morgan I think I might be sick.” His voice is plaintive. Little-boy lost and it cuts in Morgan’s guts with something between guilt and anger. That Reid should be alone when he needs someone. That Reid didn’t what, trust them to take care of him?
“Here, let’s get you up.” And he pulls Spencer’s dead weight up into a sitting position. God, the kid’s burning up. Probably not hospital bad but he looks like hell. Looks like he feels like hell.
As much as Morgan wants to get him completely off the floor, he figures Reid needs other things first. “Where’s your thermometer,” he asks in case it’s in the kitchen. No sense leaving the kid while he makes two trips.
“There isn’t--” Reid rubs at his face with the back of one hand as he tries to pull himself together. “I never bought one.”
“Tylenol?”
“Ran out.”
Morgan sighs and props Reid up in the corner between the tub and the wall. “Stay here. I’ll get you some water and then we’ll get your temperature down and the we’ll--” What, stay here? If Reid doesn’t even have a thermometer, Morgan doubts he has other useful stuff like chicken soup and orange juice, a humidifier and heating pad. Go back to Morgan’s place? Spencer’s always said that dogs don’t like him, which translates to “scare the crap out of him” in Morgan’s experience.
And the thought of Reid sleeping in Morgan’s bed all slim and beautiful? Morgan’s mind slides away from that thought before it can take hold, before he can imagine that temptation.
Reid curls himself into a miserable little ball and closes his eyes like he’s already forgotten that Morgan was talking. Morgan pushes his hair back from his face one last time and hurries to the kitchen to get him some water.
The tiny kitchen is about as sad as the bathroom. Reid has three coffee cups and one place-setting of silverware to his name and all of them are dirty. His fridge is empty and the freezer has nothing but a couple lonely frozen dinners stuffed in the back and covered with frost. Morgan washes one of the cups back and fills it from the tap and brings it back to his friend.
Reid hasn’t moved while Morgan was gone but he blinks up when he returns. His hands shake on the handle of the cup and Morgan steadies him as he sips. He hasn’t drank nearly enough when he pushes it away again. Morgan lets him but only because he knows Reid is going to like the next part even less.
“Hey,” Morgan says and helps Reid sit up again. “Reid. We’ve got to get your fever down, you know that.” Reid looks at him bleary-eyed and uncertain where this is going.
“I can help you or I can take you to the emergency room and let them do it.” He waits for a response and when he doesn’t get one either way he turns on the faucet in the tub and puts the rubber stopper in. He turns back to Reid and reaches out, slow enough for Reid to stop him even his weakened and confused state and starts unbuttoning his night shirt.
Reid’s breath hitches in his chest and he turns his face away. “Please,” he whispers, “Jus’ a cold. Please.” And Morgan isn’t even sure what the kid is asking for so he keeps undressing him, shirt and then pants down to his boxers. Of all the people he’s seen half-naked, none of them has ever seemed as fragile as Reid does now. Morgan had known that Reid was skinny and pale. Seeing it though. Touching the smoothness of that fine and almost hairless skin. He’s never been so aware of his own strength before or had this sense of power.
Morgan talks to him the entire time, soft “You’re gonna be okay” and “I’ve gotcha” as he helps Reid to his feet and guides him to step into the tepid water.
“Don’t,” Reid pleads and Morgan isn’t sure if the kid’s really here or somewhere off in his head. He doesn’t seem feverish enough to be delirious but maybe he reacts to the wonkiness of illness different than Morgan is used to.
“It’s not as cold as it feels,” Morgan tells him as he untangles the death grip Reid has on his shirt and pushes him steadily down to sit in the water. Reid sits but he locks his knees and Morgan takes the partial victory. He gives Reid a couple seconds to adjust and then starts scooping up handfuls of water to dribble over the younger man’s chest.
He’s so preoccupied by the trickling streams and how they follow the bony lines of Reid’s body that he’s surprised when he looks over and Reid’s brown eyes are intent upon his.
“She used--she used to do this,” he says as he shivers. “When I was sick.” He leans in against Morgan’s palm and Morgan can feel the water evaporating off Reid’s feverish skin. It feels like an invitation and he scoops up more in his free hand and strokes it over Reid’s other cheek, down his throat, across his shoulders and chest.
“She never held me down,” Reid whispers, “But she would push me under. Baptism. Or to drown the government nanites. I never knew why.”
“I won’t push you under,” Morgan promises and he feels Reid relax, his knees unlock, his body sink deeper into the water. Reid closes his eyes and turns his head and presses a soft kiss to Morgan’s palm.
Morgan grits his teeth and narrows his focus to the tile wall behind Reid’s head. This is the attraction. He’s known but now he understands. He has never, could never, feel this for a child but Reid is no child and the sudden desire to take and own and use nearly overwhelms him. It would be so easy. To make Reid think it’s love. To make him think it’s what he wanted all along. Reid’s so hungry for friendship, for affection. A smile here and a cold shoulder there and he’d be coming to Derek asking for it.
He can’t be that guy. He won’t, God damn it.
He’s gentle as he pulls his hand away from Reid’s cheek. He can’t leave him alone in the tub but he steps back as far away as the door and takes out his cell.
“Garcia’s personal not-at-work-phone,” Penelope’s bright voice answers.
“Hey, baby-girl.” Morgan can’t even fake a smile for her but he can spin her a lie. “I need a huge favor. Reid’s sick and I’ve got carpet guys coming over this weekend. Can I bring him over to your place? He shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“Oh. Sure. No, bring him over. Is he--are you--”
“Everybody’s fine,” Derek says and it’ll be true as soon as the temptation is gone. “I’ll see you in an hour, okay?”
He closes his phone and makes a wall around his desires as he helps Reid out of the tub, dries off his long limbs and gets him dressed again. He tells Reid the plan but after that neither of them talks until they’re at Garcia’s place.
She’s already made a bright colored nest of blankets and pillows on the couch and Morgan shouldn’t feel guilty as he helps her settle Reid there. Shouldn’t feel guilty at the hurt and confusion on Reid’s face as he says his goodbyes and heads for the door.
Better this way. Better for everyone.
.