Miles To Go Before We Sleep, Part Seven (1/2), Morgan/Reid
Title: Miles To Go Before We Sleep, Part Seven (1/2)
Authors: innerslytherin and severity_softly
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Rating: NC-17/FRAO (up to NC-17/FRAO for the entire fic)
Summary: After Reid goes off the rails in Texas, Morgan decides Reid needs a friend to support him through whatever he's going through. Several cases and "awesomely" bad sci-fi flicks later, they both realize "friendship" isn't exactly what they want...but sorting through the baggage that stands in the way of a closer relationship is more difficult than either of them expected. Starting immediately after "Elephant's Memory" and running beyond the end of "Lo-fi", this is a multi-chaptered, non-WIP fic.
Word count: part 7 (both parts) ~15000; overall, ~130K
Spoilers: Entire series - specifically Profiler, Profiled, The Big Game/Revelations, Elephant's Memory, In Heat, Tabula Rasa, and Lo-fi.
Warnings: Overall: UST, references to past sexual abuse, drug use/references to past drug use
Notes: Written in RP format. Not currently AU, but it will be after season four starts, as we've written our own ending to Lo-fi. :) This chapter was too long for one LJ post, so it's broken into two! This is PART ONE. This chapter also takes place directly after part six, on the same day. Also, we're beta'ing this ourselves now, so if you find any glaring errors, feel free to point them out! :D

Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part 7 (1/2 - this part), Part Seven (2/2)

Quitting time found Morgan wishing he'd brought the bike to work instead of his car, despite the threat of rain. He headed to the kitchenette to wash his coffee cup, nudging Reid as he passed his desk. Follow me, was the implicit message. He was hoping Reid would agree to spend the weekend at his place, though he didn't want to push.

Reid looked up from his paperwork and pushed from his desk to follow Morgan. He topped off his coffee and leaned against the counter. "Is something going on I don't know about?" he whispered.

"Huh?" Morgan automatically glanced around for Garcia, but he didn't see her. "I'm gonna take off in a few minutes. I wanted to talk to you first."

Reid looked around too, even though he wasn't sure what Morgan was looking for. Things seemed fairly normal when they got back from the range, but Garcia had been extra touchy with him, and had even winked at him before she went back to her office. "What is it?"

Morgan glanced around again, just to make sure no one could overhear, then leaned in, smiling. "I think you should pack a bag, pretty boy, and come to my place tonight. I'll even cook for you." He tilted his head, watching Reid's face.

Reid blinked. That couldn't possibly be what Garcia was acting strangely about. Reid smiled. "You cook?"

"Of course I cook. I'm a confirmed bachelor, and takeout eventually gets old." Morgan winked.

"Mmm, confirmed," Reid murmured, frowning, though he wasn't really bothered. He wondered if Morgan really thought he bought the avoidance of his question, and whether or not whatever was happening was a good thing or a bad thing.

"But I only cook for really special people, so don't tell on me." Morgan grinned and turned to rinse out his coffee cup. "You have any plans this weekend?"

"No, I don't," Reid replied.

Morgan raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. "I think I can keep you occupied, if you want," he offered. He nudged Reid with his shoulder. "You, me, Frankenhooker..." He tried the charming smile he used whenever he was trying to talk Reid into anything. It occurred to him that he'd been flirting with Reid for years without realizing it.

Reid was still preoccupied enough that he barely reacted, pursing his lips at Morgan's smile. "I take it that explaining whatever is happening can wait until then? Because if not..."

Oh, right. Morgan shook himself, then sighed. "Yeah, we can talk over dinner. It's no big deal. I don't think." He set his coffee cup down. "I'll see you in a while, then?" He hated feeling as if he had to convince Reid to spend time with him. He hoped it was just because he was nervous over telling Reid that he had told Garcia about their relationship.

That made Reid feel a little less on edge, knowing whatever was going on was "no big deal." He couldn't help but feel like there was some surprise, though, like the year they'd all ambushed him with a ridiculous hat and a cake with trick candles on his birthday. (Now that he thought about it, working as a profilers usually took the fun out of birthday "surprises," and Garcia was always the easiest to read of them all.) He frowned thoughtfully, but nodded anyway. "Right," he said. "Oh wait, weekend, like tonight? Or, um, the weekend?" he whispered.

Morgan's lips curled into a slow smile as he looked at Reid. "I was thinking the weekend," he said. "If you feel like it." He knew there were things like Reid's daily letters and Morgan's morning run that they would have to work around. Of course, they might decide they needed some time alone, but really, when Morgan had stopped hitting the clubs on the weekends, he had a lot of free time.

Reid couldn't help but smile a little. "Yeah, I feel like it." He glanced over at the bullpen, and was glad to see no one was paying any attention to them. "This, of course, is all contingent on me not getting barked out the front door."

Morgan laughed. "Don't worry. We'll figure something out. Poor Clooney may just have to get used to living in the laundry room." He winked. "I'll see you later." Whistling, he headed back to his desk, logged off his computer, and headed for the door. He blew Garcia a kiss on his way out.






The last time Reid had been alone and intimate with Morgan, it had been near disastrous. It had ended well, and all seemed to be heading the right direction, but Reid couldn't help but linger on what had happened when he'd rolled on top of Morgan the other night. In the moment, he hadn't paused to consider it much. But then even profilers had a blind spot when it came to their own emotional lives.

Reid didn't know how long Morgan had suffered at the hands of Carl Buford, or to what extent. If he was honest, he didn’t want to know. The more he thought about it, it seemed as though Morgan was suffering from some type of dissociation, and that Reid had triggered the recall of some compartmentalized memory that Morgan had shoved into a dark corner of his mind. Reid worried if and when it would happen again, and how severe it could get.

He wondered if this would ever be anything like a "normal" relationship... but then, normalcy was relative, and Reid had never been particularly concerned with normal. He just hoped eventually Morgan could get past his issues, which in turn would relieve the near overwhelming pressure Reid now felt.

Still, Reid wanted Morgan, and Morgan said he wanted Reid, so it was just a few hours after he left work that Reid found himself pulling up outside Morgan's house, his bag packed and in his back seat. He slung it over his shoulder and walked to the door, knocking and bracing himself for meeting Clooney.

Morgan had spent the past few hours fidgeting around the house, fighting down an increasing case of the jitters. He knew it was stupid to be nervous. Reid wasn't a threatening guy, and he was more than willing to take things at Morgan's pace. But Morgan wanted things to go well this weekend.

When he heard Clooney start barking, he knew someone was here, and then he heard the knock, followed by a renewed burst of barking. He hurried for the door, chewing his lower lip. "Hey, boy, it's okay. It's Spencer, he's a friend, all right, boy?" He leaned down to pat Clooney's shoulder, pulling open the door, but leaving the screen door shut.

"Hey," he said, giving Reid a warm smile. "I left some treats on the brick ledge there. Get those and offer your hand with one of the treats on it. Maybe we can bribe him into liking you."

Reid had the fleeting impulse to tell Morgan this relationship with Clooney was moving too quickly. Instead, he eyed the treats with apprehension for a moment before taking them. "This isn't going to work. They can sense anxiety."

"Clooney's a good boy," Morgan assured him. He knew his dog wouldn't bite anyone, though he was anxious about whether he would give in to the Reid Effect. He curled a hand in Clooney's collar and knelt next to him, pushing the screen door open.

"Uh-huh," Reid said absently, remembering what he knew about canine body language and trying not to look Clooney in the eye. He took a step forward and Clooney barked. Reid jumped, but didn't step back.

"Hey," Morgan said, keeping his voice calm. He scratched Clooney's ears and glanced up at Reid. "Go on, hold out the treat. He won't bite, even if he barks."

"That's what everyone says until their dog bites someone," Reid said, but he moved closer. It couldn't be any worse than getting shot, and Reid put himself at that risk on every case.

Clooney barked again, and Morgan had to fight back a laugh when Reid jumped. It wasn't funny, really, but Reid knew Clooney could tell he was anxious, and it had to be making him more anxious. "Hey, c'mon, boy," Morgan chided, patting Clooney's shoulder again. "Spencer's gonna be around a lot from now on, so you have to get along with him."

I'd rather get shot, Reid decided. It was ridiculous that the sound of gunfire was less unsettling than this. He drew a deep breath and dropped to one knee, offering the treat. Clooney seemed dubious, and he didn't take it, but he wasn't barking anymore. How long that would last, Reid wasn't sure.

"There, see?" Morgan said, grinning encouragingly at Reid. He patted Clooney again, then leaned across him to kiss Reid quickly. Maybe that would help him relax.

Reid returned the kiss, though he was still frowning a little. "Can I come inside now?" he asked, more of Clooney than Morgan.

"Yeah, Clooney'll go hang out in the back yard for a while," Morgan said. He stood and let go of the collar. "Come on, boy," he said, heading for the back door.

Clooney started to follow Morgan, but as soon as he saw Reid step inside and shut the door, Clooney must have decided that if he wasn't sure about Reid outside, he really wasn't sure about Reid inside. He turned and started barking at Reid again, and Reid pulled a face, stopping in the entryway and sticking his fingers in his ears.

"Hey!" Morgan said, raising his voice and glaring at his dog. "Cut that out!" He snapped his fingers, and when Clooney ignored him and kept barking, he raised his voice again. "Hey! Clooney! OUT."

Finally the dog stopped barking and lowered his head, looking at Morgan. "Out," he repeated, and Clooney headed for the back door. Morgan let him out and shut the door firmly behind him.

"Sorry, man," he said, turning back to Reid. "He'll warm up to you. Really."

Reid nodded and gave Morgan a strained smile, dropping his hands. "It's fine," he murmured, and after a brief hesitation, he closed the few steps between them. "I'm starting to wonder if 'The Reid Effect' is a real phenomenon. Maybe I should hire a team of scientists to study me."

Morgan kissed him, sliding an arm around his waist. "No, no, I'm already having trouble getting enough time with you," he teased. "I hope he warms up to you. I don't want to get rid of my dog."

"We see each other all the time," Reid said, though his lips were curving up a little because he knew that wasn't what Morgan meant, and because Morgan was even joking about getting rid of Clooney for him. Reid swallowed the thought that he hoped Morgan would warm up to being with him, and ignored the funny sensation in his stomach, leaning in to kiss Morgan again.

"Mmm." Morgan wrapped his other arm around Reid, too, holding him tightly. God, it felt so good to have Reid in his arms like this. He had to work through things soon, because he hated the way he was acting. It didn't matter that there was history behind it; he felt like a cock-tease. "We don't get to do this all the time," he murmured, pressing his face against Reid's neck and kissing the warm skin there.

Reid draped his arms over Morgan's shoulders, one hand stroking the back of Morgan's head, and leaned into Morgan. "No, we don't. You're a lot more hands on at the firing range than Hotch is, by the way."

Morgan chuckled and rubbed his nose against Reid's jaw. "Good. I'd hate to have to hurt him." He closed his eyes. "The question is, did it help any?"

Reid tilted his head into the touch. "I didn't really need the help. I just wanted you to touch me," he murmured.

"Mm. Evil genius," Morgan teased, liking that answer. He knew Reid had worked his butt off on his marksmanship after failing his qualifications that time three years ago. "You hungry, or should we sit down?" He didn't loosen his hold on Reid.

"I could do either," Reid answered, leaning back in Morgan's embrace enough to look at him. "What are you cooking me?"

"I have chicken and asparagus," Morgan said, "and brownies for dessert. I have to confess, I didn't make the brownies." He smiled, watching Reid's face. He was so expressive.

Reid's first thought, that asparagus was considered, by some, to be an aphrodisiac, got swallowed, mostly because he wasn't sure how Morgan would take that or where exactly the physical side of their relationship stood at the present moment. "Marcel Proust once said that asparagus 'transformed his chamber-pot into a flask of perfume.'" Okay, maybe that was a little too far from the sexual talk. "Sounds great."

Morgan raised his eyebrows, then grinned and kissed Reid again. "Yeah, and some people think it's an aphrodisiac," he murmured. "Which is not why I chose it. Just happens to be in season." He wouldn't object if it worked, but he wasn't banking on that making much difference. "Want to come keep me company in the kitchen?" he invited, kissing Reid once more and then pulling away.

Reid followed after him. "Sure," he said, and Morgan didn't seem particularly put off by what he'd said, so he continued. "Some argue that it's not so much an aphrodisiac as something that just seemed exotic at the time of its introduction, and was simply labeled aphrodisiac for that reason. Its phallic shape didn't help disperse the reputation, either. Certain constituents of asparagus are metabolized to give urine a distinctive smell, though, but it's estimated only about forty percent of the population is able to smell the difference." He leaned against the counter. "Need help?"

Morgan's eyebrows went up some more, but he had to admit he'd grown to like the way Reid spit out facts like that as conversation. "I have a bottle of wine in the fridge, if you want to open it," he said. He directed his gaze at the pan he was pulling out of the cabinet instead of looking at Reid. He'd done a little extra to try to make this a romantic sort of dinner, but hopefully it wasn't too much.

Reid blinked. Wine? This was already a lot nicer than his eggs and toast. Reid went to the fridge and pulled out the bottle, then started hunting for a corkscrew and glasses. It occurred to him that he hadn't spent a whole lot of time just spouting trivia at Morgan lately like he used to, and he wondered when that had happened, when he'd stopped feeling like he needed to prove his worth with how much he knew. Even as a child he'd done it with his mother, and especially with his dad, hoping if he could be good enough, maybe his parents would stop fighting, or maybe it would help make his mom's life easier. He'd done it with his team too, even when they weren't on a case. He still did, though perhaps not as much as he used to.

He gazed at Morgan for a moment, suddenly realizing that Morgan wasn't going to leave him if he didn't tell Morgan that eating asparagus may bring on an attacks of gout in certain individuals due to the high level of purines, or that the name "brownie" first appeared in the 1896 Boston Cooking School Cook Book. Morgan made Reid feel more comfortable in his own skin than he ever had.

He found the corkscrew in a drawer and started working on the wine, smiling to himself.

"Popcorn and coffee do that, too," Morgan said after a while. Or at least sometimes, he'd noticed it. He rubbed the flour onto the chicken and then threw the chicken in the pan, glancing over at Reid every few seconds just to take in the sight of Reid opening the bottle of wine. It was funny how much he kept noticing and enjoying the presence of Reid in the various parts of his life. It shouldn't make such a difference; they'd known each other for years. But this was different. This was his personal life, the one that he had always thought was so busy and full of exciting things...but which had apparently always been lonelier and emptier than he'd thought. Because now, with Reid here, he felt warmer.

"Mmm," Reid hummed and glanced at Morgan. It felt good that Morgan was humoring him. He turned to corkscrew and worked the cork out of the bottle, then started the scavenger hunt for wine glasses. "Popcorn is one of the top causes for children under the age of four choking to death," he said absently.

"Really? I choked on a taco shell once when I was a kid. Couldn't bring myself to eat them for years." Morgan glanced over at Reid, grinning at the sight of him rummaging through the cupboards. He added the asparagus to the pan and nodded towards the cupboard to the left of the sink. "Plates and glasses are in there, if you want to grab them. This is about finished."

Reid nodded, grateful when Morgan directed him to the right cabinet, and went to grab the plates and glasses. He'd seen silverware earlier too, and got forks and knives out to set the table. Once everything was settled, he poured their wine and walked up behind Morgan. He placed Morgan's glass on the counter and slid his free hand around Morgan's waist, kissing the back of Morgan's neck. "This is like déjà vu, with an upgraded setting."

Morgan made a surprised noise when Reid came up behind him, but he leaned back lightly against him. "I had more time to plan than you did," he said, smiling. He lifted a hand behind his head to curl his fingers into Reid's hair, covering Reid's hand with the other. "Man, I've gotta tell you, this is way different from dating a woman." He turned his head a little, hoping for a kiss. "Great, but different."

Reid hummed at that, pushing to his toes to give Morgan a kiss over his shoulder. "How?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Morgan kissed him back, pleased, then gestured between the two of them. "I dunno, just...doesn't seem like you're looking for flowers and dancing and, you know, midnight walks on the beach. Instead we're shooting targets together and...stuff."

"I wouldn't be averse to walks on the beach, midnight or otherwise," Reid said, giving Morgan a wry smile. He stepped away and leaned against the counter near Morgan to let Morgan finish cooking. "But I really don't see the point in giving me a dying piece of shrubbery, and dancing would... just be embarrassing." The food smelled wonderful, and it felt nice that Morgan was cooking for him. "Would you have taken a girl shooting?"

Morgan snorted. "What happened to that memory of yours? One of my rules of survival has always been 'never date a woman with a gun'." He took the pan off the heat and added the parsley and lemon juice. "But you seem to have a way of getting around all my 'rules', so I suppose the fact that you could shoot me if I pissed you off doesn't matter." He glanced up at Reid, imagining him surrounded by ocean and moonlight. Next time they were in Miami, he'd have a slightly different agenda than Cuban food.

"I must have never seen that rule written down," Reid answered, and then laughed at the idea of him shooting Morgan. "Lucky for you, revenge is rarely my MO, even when under duress." He smiled, waiting for Morgan to finish their food, and then helping him carry it to the table.

"That's a relief." Especially right now, Morgan thought. He settled in at the table and gestured for Reid to help himself. "In that case...I have a confession to make."

Reid sat down, and then froze at that statement, his mind going through all the possible confessions Morgan could have to make. He frowned, and didn't move to fill his plate. "Confession?"

Morgan coughed, then sighed. "You asked what was going on?" Man, he didn't want to tell Reid that Garcia knew. He took a sip of his wine, not quite meeting Reid's eyes.

Reid was slightly relieved, knowing this had something to do with whatever was happening at work, knowing it's wasn't something about them. "Right," he prompted.

Morgan forced himself to look up, meeting Reid's gaze. "You remember when Garcia hung up on you?"

"I do," Reid said, and he might have smiled, because listening to her and Morgan talk before she'd hung up had brought a grin to his face, except he was still waiting on this confession. "And I remember her winking at me this afternoon. Morgan, just tell me."

Morgan sighed. "She accused me of keeping things from her, gave me a list of evidence, and asked who the lucky girl was." He glanced away, then dragged his gaze back to Reid's. "And remember this is a woman who won't hesitate to cyber stalk her teammates to get to the truth." He took another sip of his wine, putting off the final confession for a moment.

Reid's eyebrows lifted and his lips parted, going cold. "You told her?"

"I told her about us," Morgan confirmed. He rubbed at the back of his neck. "She said...well, she won't tell anyone." She's proud of me. I hope I can live up to this. "You know her, man, she's relentless."

"You told her?" Reid repeated, torn between being upset that Morgan had told her without asking Reid first and overwhelmed by Morgan admitting their relationship to someone else when he was still having issues with it. "We-- we talked about rules, Derek. Fraternization!"

"Hey, she is not the person who's gonna rat us out for that," Morgan pointed out, though he was distracted by the fact that Reid had just called him Derek. He sighed. "What was I gonna do? I don't want her to think I'm with some girl when it's you." He sighed; he'd hoped Reid wouldn't be angry about this, but apparently that had been overly optimistic of him.

Reid took a gulp of his wine. "I know, but you just... you just outed me without checking with me first?" He sighed. "I'm not-- I just-- you should have asked me."

Fuck. Morgan rubbed a hand over his face. He hadn't even thought of it like that. He'd thought about not having Garcia watching him, and he'd put his own interests in front of Reid's. "Shit. I'm sorry, Spencer. I...I wasn't even thinking, I just..." I've already fucked up. Twice, if you count the other night. "I'm really sorry."

Reid shook his head and sighed. "It's done now." He moved, finally, to start filling his plate, though he was still frowning. He couldn't decide how to feel. On one hand, they had talked about work and their relationship... sort of... and it was upsetting that he hadn't been consulted when Morgan decided to tell Garcia. On the other hand, Morgan had told Garcia. It was promising, as far as their relationship was concerned, and it said a lot about how Morgan felt about him -- that playboy Derek Morgan would not only admit to dating a man, but skinny, geeky Spencer Reid.

"I'm not mad," he said, after the silence drew out.

Morgan forced himself to look back at Reid, who was frowning. He said he wasn't mad, but he sure sounded like he was. "Spencer, I...look, I know I messed up. I'll make it up to you somehow." He debated for a second, then added, "And when I, you know, when I'm ready to tell my family, I won't do it without asking you first." He had to get this right. He had to learn to think about Reid first.

Reid shook his head. "You don't have to make it up to me. I'm not keeping score." Reid reached over and closed his fingers around Morgan's and briefly wondered if women did 'keep score'. "Work's just different, you know. You can tell your family. I told my mom." Whether or not she understands. "And I don't care about anyone else." Of course, he did trust Morgan to show discretion with people they didn't know. "Work's just---" He shook his head, and then finally blurted, "I can't believe you told her."

A little relieved, Morgan tightened his fingers on Reid's. "Garcia's probably my best friend, next to you, you know," he said. "And she knows me too well. I thought not telling her would make it worse. And I didn't think about the fact that I was outing you." He tried a puppy-dog look on Reid, wondering if it would work.

Reid recognized that look and wasn't falling for it... even if it was sort of endearing. He sighed and let go of Morgan's hand so he could eat before their food got cold. "I know. I just hope-- I hope--" He wasn't sure what he was trying to say. Garcia gossiped just like the rest of the girls, but she was protective of Morgan, and Reid thought she was protective of him too, even if just a little. Though Reid sometimes got the feeling a lot of the team treated him that way. "I am mildly - mildly - flattered you admitted it to her," he murmured, taking a bite of asparagus and smiling faintly.

"Mildly?" Morgan repeated, looking hopefully at Reid. "You know I'm not hiding this because I want to, right? I realize we need to cover our asses with the Bureau, but I'm not ashamed to be seen with you, or ashamed that I'm dating a man." He sipped his wine. "Confused, sure, but that's not the same thing."

Reid chewed thoughtfully, then gestured with his fork. "You know as well as I do how confusion and shame bleed together."

Morgan took a bite of his food, trying to figure out what Reid meant by that. Was he saying he thought Morgan was ashamed? Or was he talking about something else? "Hey, I know that I'm...still dealing with shame," he said finally, struggling with the words. "Even if I know that what Carl did isn't my fault." God, he could talk about a victim being abused sexually without blinking, but bring it in on the personal level and every word was like pulling teeth. He rubbed at the back of his neck, forcing himself to look back up at Reid's face. "But that--that shame is not related to you, Spencer Reid." He took a deep breath. "You're the person I want to be with."

"I know," Reid said. "Even if you were ashamed of us, I would know that it wasn't my fault." That wasn't to say that it wouldn't hurt, even just a little, but that was beside the point. "We don't have to talk about this, you know," he added, not missing the strain in Morgan's voice.

Morgan took a sip of his wine and shrugged, trying to ignore the way his heart had suddenly doubled its pace. "If I can't talk about this, how am I gonna get past it?" he said. He frowned down at his plate. "If I'm gonna talk about it to anyone, it'll be you." He licked his lips. "You're the only person I talk to about...important things." Well, he talked to Garcia about stuff, sometimes, but never anything like this.

Reid nodded, feeling his heart swell at the notion that Morgan trusted him more than anyone else. It wasn't a surprise, but it still felt good to hear. "Okay," he said, then paused and added, "I don't really know what to say, Morgan."

"Yeah, I don't know, either," Morgan admitted. "I just don't like feeling like I can't talk about it. Like I can't force the words out, you know?" He glanced up at Reid, then looked back down at his plate. He trusted Reid, but it didn't lessen his discomfort.

"I know. That's perfectly normal." Reid offered a sad smile, and took another bite of his chicken, not pointing out that Morgan's difficulty getting the words out most likely stemmed from that shame they were talking about a moment ago. "You're a good cook," he said after a pause, his smile going a little warmer.

Morgan smiled, looking back up. "Thanks," he said. If he was forced to admit it, he'd been showing off a little for Reid with the meal he planned. He wanted to prove that he was taking this seriously, that he was putting effort into it. He watched Reid's face for a minute. He enjoyed watching him, liked knowing he was allowed to watch him. "I'm glad you're here," he said after a bit.

Reid's smile strengthened. "I'm glad you asked me," he said, taking a drink of his wine. "I brought Frankenhooker, and that leaves us about 46 hours left to fill." God, two full days! Morgan was going to get sick of him any minute.

Morgan laughed. "Even taking out sixteen hours for sleep and a couple for you to write letters and me to go for a run, I think we'll have fun filling them," he said. He slid a hand across the table to stroke his fingers lightly along Reid's wrist.

"I hope so. Otherwise, the remaining 28 hours are going to be very long." Reid caught Morgan's fingers and threaded his own between them. "Do you run in the morning?" he asked, already liking the idea of sleeping in Morgan's bed while Morgan was out.

"Yeah," Morgan said, thinking about those 28 hours. "You're not getting tired of me already, are you?" he asked, his tone playful, though he really wanted to know. He wasn't exactly knowledgeable on all eight hundred Star Trek episodes, after all. For all that Reid had been interested in this, he might decide Morgan couldn't keep up with him.

Reid laughed, wondering if they were both thinking the same thing. "Not even close. I'm amazed you're not tired of me, actually."

"No way, pretty boy," Morgan said, rubbing his thumb over Reid's. "Are you forgetting that I'm the one who started this?" He grinned. "Even if you're the one who took it where we really want it to be."

"Started what? You didn't know what you were doing!" Reid exclaimed, smiling and giving Morgan's hand a squeeze.

"Hey, I knew I wanted more time with you. I knew you were hurting and I wanted to know why." Morgan shrugged. "It just took a while to realize I also found you damn attractive."

Reid grinned and looked down at his nearly empty plate, thinking he'd rather settle in on Morgan's couch and snuggle up against him than finish what was left. "I'm not sure what I would have done that night if you hadn't let me come invade your house. Thanks, Morgan."

"Thanks for coming to me," Morgan said quietly. Thanks for trusting me. He took another sip of wine, wanting to hug Reid hard. It was funny, the way he felt the need to just hold Reid so much. He had a feeling it was partly because Reid seemed to need it, but mostly because he needed it himself. "You want to save dessert for later?" he asked.

Reid looked up at Morgan, and tilted his head. "Yeah. After the movie?" he suggested, though really he didn't care so much about the movie.

"Sounds good," Morgan agreed. He stood up, keeping his wine glass and tugging Reid to get him to follow Morgan over to the couch.


Part 7 continued