"Tell the truth," said Morgan, leaning on the edge of Reid's desk. "Is Lila the first really hot girl you've ever kissed?"
Reid thought about this for a moment, then shrugged. "I suppose that depends on your definition," he prevaricated, though he knew Morgan was right. Reid had always been shyer with girls, reluctant to approach them when he could date sweet, nerdy boys who were just as out of place as he was.
Morgan laughed and shook his head, patting Reid on the shoulder as he got up and went back to his filing.
Reid smiled to himself, and filled out his paperwork with images of his last date with Eugene Phelps dancing in his mind's eye -- his own personal definition of hot.
"Too bad it didn't work out with that Lila girl," said Morgan a few weeks later, when word got around the office that Reid hadn't heard from his actress.
Reid laughed and shook his head. "It's all right, she wasn't really my type, anyway," he said. "All flash, no substance."
"You're more for brains than beauty?" said Morgan with a chuckle.
"Or brawn," said Reid, feeling the words slip out a moment too late to stop them.
Morgan raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, I guess."
Reid flushed. "It's more about the person inside than out," he said, ducking his head shyly. "I've always considered gender as flexible a parameter as any other physical trait."
Morgan shot him a little half-grin. "You dog, you," he said, sounding almost approving.
"Why didn't you tell me you were into guys?" said Garcia. She'd cornered him by the men's room, and Reid's eyes were wide with panic.
"Was I supposed to?" Reid squeaked, edging toward the bathroom door.
"Now we can admire the hotties together next time we all go to the bar," she said with an evil glint in her eye. "It's much more fun than doing it alone."
Reid laughed nervously. "I'm not really the ogling sort."
"Poppycock!" she retorted. "All men like to watch, it's wired in or something."
Morgan chose that moment to come striding around the corner. "What sort of trouble are you trying to get him into, baby girl?" he asked, and Reid felt a flash of unwelcome envy for their ability to tease and flirt and not raise an eyebrow.
Well, not within the team, anyway.
"Oh, my sweet chocolate treat, I'm trying to get Reid to go manhunting with me," she said with a mischievous grin. "Unless you're going to finally light up my life?"
"Or mine," said Reid, unable to resist.
The look on Morgan's face was worth every bit of crap he'd get from Garcia later.
"How about that one, he's got a great ass," said Garcia, pointing.
Reid sighed and sipped his Coke. "And not even two brain cells to rub together, or he wouldn't be wearing neon turquoise leopard print spandex," he said, eyes straying to Morgan; it was safe, because hers would in a minute, too, and neither of them would speak of it. At least that was how it had worked so far.
"I thought you liked girls," said Elle, sidling up between them.
Reid turned to her, trying to put Morgan's undulating form out of his mind, for now. "I like interesting people," said Reid. He'd been rehearsing this answer ever since Garcia's ambush.
"So it's all about the cranium and not the packaging?" said Elle dubiously.
"Well, not entirely about the cranium, I mean, I do have preferences physically, but an incompatible personality would rule out even the most attractive woman."
"Or man," said Elle dryly.
Reid declined to dignify that with a response, instead taking a long drink of his Coke.
"How're my darlings doing?" said Morgan, sidling up to the table.
Reid nearly snorted his soda. "I'm a darling now?"
They all laughed, but Reid caught Morgan eyeing him speculatively while the girls were still recovering.
Reid was grateful that Gideon, at least, wasn't distracted by his inadvertent coming out. The next case they worked was a hard one, and Gideon was there for him when it was over just like always, as a mentor and father figure. It was strangely ordinary to ride back in the plane, shellshock slowly melting to normality as they played chess and talked about the philosophy of heroism, and how it was portrayed in American society.
'You were her hero,' echoed Morgan's voice in Reid's memory, and he thought that might have been part of the appeal -- most of it, even, for him as well as her.
"Check," said Gideon with a smirk.
Reid drew himself back to the game, shaking his head at the way he'd let himself be trapped while he was thinking. "That'll teach me to let you bring up deep thoughts during chess," he said, squeaking his king out of the trap by capturing Gideon's knight.
"It's all thinking," said Gideon with a shrug, but there was humour sparkling in his eyes.
"And that's Checkmate," said Reid with a snort as Gideon moved his queen in for the kill. He tipped over his king and shook his head. "Everything can be used as a strategy when you're up against an opponent's mind, I suppose."
"An excellent lesson," said Morgan, sauntering over with his usual charming smile. "Play some gin?"
"If we're done?" Reid asked Gideon, getting a nod in return.
Gideon stood up, gesturing for Morgan to claim his spot. "Don't steal his lunch money," he teased, clapping Morgan on the shoulder and giving Reid's a squeeze, then moving off to talk to Elle in a low voice.
Reid tuned the other chatter out, bringing all of his attention on Morgan. The cards were out and he was already shuffling them with practiced ease. "Rummy or not?" he asked, getting ready to deal.
"Rummy, but no betting," said Reid with a laugh. "I can't afford to be your sugar daddy this week."
Morgan's eyebrows went up, but he shrugged and capitulated. "I'd've just done pennies for points," he said, his tone implying a certain lack of courage on Reid's part.
"It's not the pennies so much as my dignity," said Reid with a wry chuckle. "It's bad enough losing without having to pay you for the privilege."
Morgan dealt, then pulled out a small notebook and pen to record the inevitable humiliation. "Maybe I just like makin' you admit who's your daddy," he teased, waiting for Reid to organize his hand and make the first move.
"I don't see the name 'Reid' on your badge," replied Reid, taking the discard and replacing it with one of his own.
Morgan snapped that card up and laid down a set, which made Reid roll his eyes. "You must mark these somehow," he complained good-naturedly.
Morgan chuckled. "I just know how to play the game, that's all."
"You can say that again," said JJ, coming up to lean on the back of his seat. "You always were a player."
Morgan put his hand -- cards and all -- over his heart. "You cut me, JJ."
"Say that the next time you've had a date with the same woman twice," she replied. Then she mouthed, "Kings," to Reid, who couldn't help but laugh.
"I can lose by myself, thanks," he said, picking up the top card off the deck with a roll of his eyes. It was, of course, a king.
"Is that the reason why you don't form lasting relationships?" asked Reid. "I mean, because of..."
"Are you still profilin' me?" interrupted Morgan.
"No, I just wondered, I mean." Reid flushed, then shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to let you know you can talk to me about it. If you wanted to. Or not, if you don't. Whatever."
Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "If I didn't know you were sincere, man... I don't want to, and I won't want to, but I guess I can't fault the sentiment."
Reid let out the breath he'd been holding in an explosive sigh. "Sorry."
Morgan clapped him on the shoulder, then walked away, ending the conversation.
"You're not lookin' too good these days, kid," said Morgan.
Reid squirmed; they were driving to interview some witnesses a few towns over, and he was trapped in the SUV with Morgan. "I've been having problems... The crime scene photos, some of the things people say, it makes me..."
"Flash back to what he did to you?" said Morgan. His voice was quiet, serious.
It was as close to an intimate conversation as they'd ever had, and Reid wasn't sure he wanted to be in on it. "Yeah," he said softly, trying to push the images out of his mind even now.
"It's a hard thing, being a victim," said Morgan. "Especially when you think you're supposed to always be the hero instead."
Reid swallowed nervously, hand going to his bag and the vials of drug he knew were in there. "I hate the way it makes me afraid," he said, not wanting to admit the other, the craving for that state the drugs had put him in, floating and helpless as the abused child that Morgan had once been.
"You learn to get past the fear," said Morgan, reaching out to pat Reid's leg.
A shuddery little laugh helped disguise the way Reid's pulse jumped at the touch, half fear and half pathetic wanting. "How can I learn faster?"
Morgan laughed, too, hand squeezing Reid's thigh. "You've just gotta find something worth living through the fear for, and eventually you forget to be afraid so much."
"Great," said Reid, letting his head hit the headrest behind him. "As if this job leaves time for a life."
"I didn't say it was a perfect solution," said Morgan, "but it's the only one I got."
Reid lapsed into silence for a few miles before he got up the courage to ask, "Do you ever find yourself craving the parts that made you feel good?"
Morgan looked at him sharply, eyes moving from the dark circles to shaking hands, and filling up with a new set of conclusions. "I used to want that praise he gave me, yeah," said Morgan, "but I found other places to get it."
Reid nodded thoughtfully, remembering the floaty feeling of the drugs, freed from the incessant chatter of his brain and the weight of his responsibilities. He chuckled when he realized where else he knew that feeling from, and shook his head.
"What's funny?" asked Morgan, voice even, not quite hurt yet, but thinking about it.
Reid flushed. "I was just thinking of other ways to emulate the feeling I'm missing," he said.
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Anything I can help with?"
Reid couldn't help it, he cracked up, curling around his bag and the vials and his own libido, images dancing behind his eyes of Morgan helping him to achieve the one other sensation that filled his mind with nothing but staticky pleasure. "I don't, oh god," said Reid, cracking up again. He got himself under control while Morgan looked first bewildered, then cranky. "Sorry, sorry, I just, um, don't think that's a feeling you're really wanting to help with." He cleared his throat and explained in as delicate a manner as he could manage. "I was just thinking how the, uh, high was a bit like another, erm, peak. That you can experience. Sometimes two or three times a night."
Morgan's brows furrowed, then his eyes went wide and he laughed uncomfortably. "Oh, that feeling. Uh, yeah, you're on your own there."
Reid was sure he imagined the speculative looks that Morgan kept shooting him for the rest of the drive.
"It's good to be a proper team again," said Morgan, leaning on Reid's desk.
Reid looked up at him, bewildered for a moment, then shrugged.
Morgan put a hand on Reid's shoulder. "I know you miss Gideon."
"He was like a father to me," admitted Reid.
"He was a mentor to all of us," agreed Morgan, giving Reid's shoulder a squeeze. "But he needs something different now."
"That doesn't stop us from needing him," said Reid, his voice small and confused.
"Hey, you've still got me," said Morgan.
Reid chuckled, then looked up. "I guess we're luckier than the girls you date, we get you for more than a night or two."
Something odd passed over Morgan's features, then it was replaced with a warm smile. "You know it."
Reid's answering smile was more private, an amusement only he understood. "Yes," he said, "I do."
"I hate that it changed me," said Reid, sitting next to Morgan. Everyone else in the plane was asleep, but Reid had been too long without Gideon, without the drugs and without someone to help him forget them both. Something had changed between him and Morgan in the past few months, and Reid was just desperate enough to trade on that newfound closeness. "I hate that I'm a different person than I was, that I'll always be a victim now because that's what he made me."
"Hey, no, you're more than that," said Morgan, arm going around Reid's shoulders comfortingly, easily.
Reid leaned into him, too tired to resist, tonight. "I'm more than that," said Reid bitterly, "but I'm still that. Still a victim, his victim."
Morgan nodded slowly. "We've got that in common," he said.
It might have been incongruous if it hadn't been exactly what Reid needed to hear. "Whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger, huh?"
Morgan snorted out a laugh. "Not always, but this will. You'll see, something good will come out of it."
Reid sighed. "Does it ever stop hurting?"
"Completely?" asked Morgan, and Reid nodded. "I won't lie to you, it hasn't yet. Sometimes I wonder..."
Reid waited, patient enough now that he was in the circle of Morgan's arm, basking in the warmth of his regard. Reid counted heartbeats, his own slowing while Morgan's picked up, until finally Morgan spoke again.
"I wonder who I'd be, what I'd be like, if he hadn't broken part of me before it ever had a chance to grow," said Morgan.
Reid blinked, then put his hand over Morgan's on his shoulder. "Someone once told me I didn't have to stay broken, if I was willing to go through the pain of fixing myself."
Morgan chuckled wryly. "I bet that was Gideon," he said, giving Reid a squeeze. "You guys are right, you know. I never can give more of myself to a girl than a couple of nights and a charming excuse."
"Maybe you're just picking up the wrong girls," suggested Reid with a teasing smile.
"You don't think I know that?" said Morgan, quiet and frustrated all of a sudden. "But the keepers, the kind you take home to ma, I don't have the guts to even ask them out in the first place."
"Do you really want to?" asked Reid curiously. Morgan was one of the bravest men he knew, and it seemed strange that he'd let shyness keep him from asking out the women he truly admired.
Morgan shrugged. "I think... I feel like, a girl like that, she'd want to know all my secrets."
"Ah," said Reid, suddenly understanding. Morgan had been willing to risk jail and the destruction of his career in order to keep those secrets, and it would take more than your average nice girl to get him to change his mind. "We all know, and we still l- um. Care about you."
"You know you love me," said Morgan, making a joke of the slip.
Reid was content to let him lighten the mood. "Just not that way," he teased back.
Morgan raised his eyebrow challengingly. "You sayin' I'm not your type?"
Reid laughed. "You're just not nerdy enough for me," he retorted, though in truth he found Morgan's combination of brains and brawn to be viscerally appealing, in a way that had made for a lot of uncomfortable moments back when they'd first begun working together. "Maybe if you got glasses?"
"I've never really understood faith."
Morgan looked up, but Reid's face was open, curious. "I don't know if it's something you can understand," he said, moving over on the bench. "It's just something you have or you don't."
Reid sat, speaking quietly despite the empty park around them. "It seems like a lot of people have it when they're kids and grow out of it, or away from it, when it doesn't give them what they feel like they were promised." He paused, then ploughed on. "Or they have something happen to them and then they go find it, like it's this magical thing that can fix them."
"I'd agree with both of those," said Morgan thoughtfully, "but there's also people who just have faith, the way you have your memory, it's just a part of who they are. And I think it's those people that make the rest of us long for something more than what we're given."
Reid looked down at his hands. "I find it hard to embrace the idea of a faith that would push me away for who I am," he said quietly. "If you... Will you reject me again, if you find your faith?"
"Oh, Spencer, no," said Morgan, rubbing the thin back, fingers rubbing over every bump as he soothed. "Faith isn't always blind."
Reid laughed, hollow and humorless. "I suppose I ought to trust you not to let it blind you," he said, hands shaking just a little. "Does it ever bother you, what I am?"
"Smart, good-looking despite yourself, kind and generous and did I mention smarter than the rest of us combined?" asked Morgan, the compliments tumbling out without his usual smoothness. "No, and it doesn't bother me that you date men, either."
"I'm a heathen, too," said Reid with a chuckle. "Never even been baptized."
Morgan snorted, smiling wryly. "We've both got a lot more sins than the original one to worry about," he said. His hand still travelled the path of Reid's spine, over and over, as if it held the answer to a question he hadn't asked.
Reid turned to him, sitting up, and their faces were suddenly close, too close for comfort. "What's one more, I suppose?" he asked, then laughed and turned away.
Reid tried not to believe that it was disappointment he saw in Morgan's eyes.
They'd stayed in a hundred hotel rooms like this one, but tonight Reid was on edge, unable to push away that elusive flash of disappointment, the warmth of Morgan's hand going up and down his back and the answering heat it had kindled inside him. "Can I have the first shower?" asked Reid, rummaging through his things. He'd only shower again in the morning, but he felt antsy and grimy, and he needed that time alone tonight.
"Take your time," said Morgan, reclining on his double bed, the one closest to the door, between Reid and potential danger.
Reid smiled, extracting pajamas and his toiletry kit, then ducking into the bathroom. "I might be a while," he called through the door, skinning out of his clothes as fast as he could go. There was a drop of blood on one sleeve from when the coroner had slipped and dropped the victim's hand back into the puddle of blood. The knees of his trousers were grubby from kneeling in the dirt, and there was detritus from the crime scene in the cuffs. His mind catalogued the tiny imperfections even as he folded the clothes neatly, setting them to one side.
The knock on the door startled him.
"If you're gonna be a while, can I use the head first?" asked Morgan through the door.
Reid blushed all the way down to his nipples, which were rising in the cool air-conditioned room. "I, uh, already undressed."
"Damn, you're quick," said Morgan. "But if you don't want me comin' in to flush while you're showering, you need to let me in now."
"Hold on, hold on," said Reid. Rather than try to figure out what the minimum acceptable amount of clothing was, he wrapped one of the annoyingly small hotel towels around his hips and emerged, doing his best to look shivering and pathetic.
Morgan's eyes raked over him, and Reid flushed redder, feeling the tingling that presaged desire beginning to rise in his groin. "I'll be quick," said Morgan, disappearing into the bathroom.
Reid tried to think of anything at all to keep his body in line, though he refused to use his work in that manner. Neither he nor the victims deserved that, though it was a line of reflection that drew him away from his ardour and allowed it to cool.
He heard the toilet flush and the sink run, and tightened his grip on the flimsy towel.
"All yours," said Morgan, going back to flop on the bed.
"Thanks." Reid ducked his head shyly and disappeared back into the bathroom, trying to tell himself that the feel of Morgan's gaze on his retreating body was an illusion born of false hope and foolish desire.
It even almost worked.
Reid was too nervous to take care of himself in the shower, and he emerged sooner than he'd intended, only to find himself face-to-face with evidence that Morgan wore boxer briefs. "Oh! I, uh, sorry, I guess I didn't take as long as I thought," he babbled, feeling a tent begin to form in his too-flimsy pajamas at the sight of Morgan's well-formed and barely-clad ass.
Morgan turned, bare chest moving in a chuckle. "It's all right, it's not like you're gonna jump me," he said.
Reid nearly choked at that. "No, I, no, I mean, I would never, not that you're not, but you... I'm going to go back in here and wait for you to be done with that."
"Reid, it's all right," said Morgan.
Reid blushed, then shrugged. "Sorry, Derek, I guess I just panicked." He edged out of the doorway with his dirty clothes held in front of him like a shield, and hoped he didn't look too guilty.
"You're pretty bad at bein' gay if my ass makes you panic," teased Morgan, slipping into a t-shirt and not even bothering with any other pants.
Spencer swallowed, trying to chalk it up to a warm night and not stare at the way Morgan's cock and balls made a hefty package in his underwear. "I'm, uh, usually expecting the ass I get."
Morgan chuckled. "Is that how it is?"
Reid blinked, then blushed deeper and shrugged. He busied himself at his suitcase while he tried to think of the right answer, then just gave in and told the truth. "Actually I tend to stick to oral, manual or frottage, though I have tried and enjoyed both penetrating and being penetrated," he said, retreating into the pedantic. "It's safer when you aren't in a long-term relationship, and although I have had a few of those, they weren't exclusive or particularly serious."
"So you've never been in love, but you've been in someone's ass?" teased Morgan, clearly enjoying Reid's discomfiture.
"Something like that," said Reid. He was out of things to put away, so he scrambled under the covers and pulled up his knees, hiding the reaction he was having to the conversation, though he had a feeling Morgan wasn't fooled.
Morgan pulled up the knee closest to Reid, so he took that as a polite request not to stare so much and tried to concentrate on something else. "Which do you like better? Pitching, right?"
Reid recognized the old pain lurking behind Morgan's question, and he took this answer more seriously than the others. "With the right partner, I find them equally enjoyable, but the wrong partner can make it awful."
"How can it not be awful?" asked Morgan, voice small.
"Well, for one thing I have to want them, to be really aroused and ready for it," said Reid. It was hard to talk about, but harder for Morgan, and Reid respected the effort he was making enough to meet him halfway. "And then there has to be a lot of preparation, and a lot of lubrication."
"So you don't just, uh, slick it up and go?" asked Morgan.
"Oh, god!" said Reid, unable to hold back his horror at the thought of it, of young Derek being forced that way, unwilling and unready. "No! God, no."
Morgan gave him another of those opaque, sidelong glances. "Good."
Reid bit his lip and tried to wait out Morgan's silent conteplation, but finally gave in to his own curiosity. "Why now?"
"What?" asked Morgan, coming up from wherever his mind had been.
"Why are you asking me about this stuff now?" Reid clarified.
Morgan shrugged, then seemed to think better of it. "Remember when I said I was too afraid to ask out the right kind of girls?" asked Morgan.
Reid nodded; that had been a hard conversation to have, but one that taught him about himself as much as Morgan. "I remember."
"Well, that wasn't all true," said Morgan. "I think... I think I'm too afraid to ask out the right kind of guys."
"Oh!" said Reid, hands fluttering like nervous birds, picking at the coverlet and making half-formed gestures as he spoke. "You mean, you think that after everything, you might have a man you're attracted to, but you're afraid the sex will be horrible because of what you went through as a child."
Morgan chuckled. "Somethin' like that, yeah."
"I think that any man worthy of you would understand that he had to go slow, and that some things might not even be on the table," said Reid, turning to look at Morgan full in the face this time.
Morgan raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"
"A good man wouldn't ever try to make you do something that you hated for his own gratification."
Morgan cocked his head. "And you? Could you live a life with just those other things, hands and mouths and rubbing, knowing you couldn't fuck your partner?"
"Of course," said Reid. "I don't do much of that now, and I can't imagine a scenario where I'd enjoy penetrating an unwilling partner of either gender, in any orifice."
Morgan laughed, loud and low with just a tiny edge of hysteria. "Any orifice, huh?" he asked, before dissolving back into laughter.
Reid flushed, then shrugged.
"All right, all right," said Morgan, once he got a hold of himself again.
"Are we done now?" asked Reid, trying for dignified and mostly just sounding peevish.
Morgan chuckled. "Only if you don't wanna come over here and kiss me."
"I, what?" Reid's voice squeaked, and he stared, wondering if he'd hit his head in the shower and was even now being taken out on a stretcher.
"You heard me," said Morgan.
Reid didn't have to be told thrice; he knew what the invitation must have cost Morgan, and Reid wasn't about to throw it back in his face. "So, not done yet," he said, scrambling out from under the covers and over to Morgan's bed. He stopped at the edge, standing awkwardly with his hands feebly trying to hide his erection. "Um. How far does this invitation extend?"
Morgan chuckled, then reached out and snagged one of Reid's wrists, pulling him into the bed and on top of Morgan in a sprawl. "You and your penis are both welcome, Spencer," he said.
It was the sexiest thing Reid had ever heard. He swallowed and leaned in, trying to keep some semblance of decorum, to give Morgan a chance to change his mind.
Morgan's hands came up to cup Reid's face, warm and insistent as they pulled him in closer. Reid let his eyes close and he felt a frisson of excitement go through him as Morgan's lips touched his, gently at first and then with building heat. It would have been chaste if there hadn't been such purpose in the way Morgan's mouth moved over Reid's, strong and hot enough to curl Reid's toes.
Reid had to admit, Morgan knew how to kiss.
Morgan shifted under him, and Reid became very aware of his cock and balls and the way they were cradled in the hollow Morgan's hip, the way his sac fell to nestle against Morgan's between his legs, the heat of Morgan's cock against his own hip. His pajamas were really no barrier at all to the warmth of their bodies, and a soft moan opened his mouth against Morgan's.
Morgan took that as invitation and slipped his tongue along the curve of Reid's lip, then into the warmth of his mouth. Reid let his own tongue tangle with it, pressing closer from lips to hips and gasping when Morgan's body arched up to meet him. "What, ohgod, what do you want me to do?" asked Reid; this was one moment he couldn't leave to chance, no matter how unromantic it might seem.
Morgan kissed him again before answering, nearly erasing his good intentions completely.
"You mentioned frott- um. Rubbing, right?" murmured Morgan, his voice soft and shy.
Reid kissed him, then nodded. "We can do that," he said, rocking down into Morgan, making it clear that even nudity was optional, if it would make Morgan more comfortable.
"Do you like that?" asked Morgan, unsure now that they were close.
Reid rolled them over so that Morgan was on top. "I like that a lot," he said, spreading his legs and adjusting until their cocks could rub together.
Something slipped through Morgan's gaze too fast to see, and Reid leaned up for a kiss instead. "Like this?" asked Reid, a hundred questions in just two words.
"Yeah," sighed Morgan, low and rough. He rocked his hips a few times and kissed Reid, and then, courage gathered, leaned back enough to pull off his t-shirt. "But I'd like it better naked."
Reid grinned, feeling pride bubble up through the desire and uncertainty. "Naked is good, too," he agreed, running his hands appreciatively over Morgan's sculpted chest and abdomen.
Morgan's hands were tentative as they smoothed over Reid's bare chest, thumbs flicking over his sensitive nipples as if by accident and making Reid's breath catch in his throat. "I like you like this," breathed Morgan, and Reid swallowed and nodded.
"It's good," he said, running fingers over and around one of Morgan's nipples. Morgan caught his lip between white teeth, though a small noise escaped anyway.
Reid chose to take that as a good sign. "More naked?" he asked, trying to make it a suggestion rather than a demand, though in truth he'd been wanting to see all of Morgan since pretty much the day they met.
"Yes, dear," said Morgain with a chuckle, leaning down for a kiss. He slid back, hands sliding down Reid's body and taking Reid's pants with them, until he was standing at the edge of the bed staring down at Reid's naked body.
Reid shivered, then spread his legs a little more, wanting Morgan to know that he could have access to whatever parts he wanted, whenever he was ready. "Good?" he asked, blushing when his voice cracked just a little.
For a miracle, that seemed to relax Morgan, and he nodded, eyes roaming over Reid's body from head to toe. "Very good," he said. He took a deep breath, then took down his own underpants, standing up to let his cock bob free, hard enough to reassure Reid that Morgan really did want to do this.
"Very, very good," said Reid. His thighs parted even further, this time of their own accord, while his gaze traced the curves of Morgan's thighs and cock, the warm brown of his skin and the nervous lust in his face. "Come back here," said Reid, holding up one arm invitingly.
Morgan crawled back up Reid's body, dropping kisses here and there, a thigh, a hip, the curve of his ribs and a lick to one sensitive nipple. "If this works... We'll do more later?" he asked, settling himself back in the cradle of Reid's hips so that their cocks could kiss, wet heads rubbing together.
"Oh yeah," agreed Reid, both for the sentiment and the pleasure. Their lips met again and they rocked together, slowly at first, then faster and harder as their skin was slicked with sweat and pre-come, as the sensations began to build. Reid's balls tingled with need but he tried to hold back, wanting to make sure that Morgan got what he needed. Whatever that turned out to be.
Morgan was silent at first, nothing but harsh breathing as they moved together, but slowly the breaths turned to quiet moans and half-whispered words, and Reid relaxed a bit further beneath him. Reid had never been able to help making sounds himself, embarrassing little squeaks, whimpers and murmurs that got out no matter how much he tried to hold back. Reid held on as long as he could, but eventually his body won out over his willpower, and he was reduced to writhing and rutting beneath Morgan's solid body, clinging with his arms, legs spread wide enough that one foot kept slipping off the edge of the bed.
He gave one last cry and came, emptying himself into the space between them, the sudden slick warmth drawing out his release, making each shuddering thrust exquisite. "Derek, Derek, Derek," he chanted, the word catching along with each shiver of pleasure that ran through him.
"Spencer," breathed Morgan, soft and low, and a tremor shook his whole body as he came.
"I'm here," said Reid, holding Morgan gently, letting their foreheads rest together. "I've got you."
Morgan relaxed against Reid, heedless for the moment of the mess they'd made, and a slow grin broke out over his features. "Yeah," he said, kissing Reid. "You do."