Fic: Quiver
Title: Quiver
Author: wanderingjasper
Rating: FRAO
Characters: Morgan/Reid
Word Count: 766
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, but I do take liberties with them for no financial gain.
Notes: Written for the CM Prompt Meme.
Summary: Morgan/Reid, immediately prior to 'House on Fire'; they show up to the conference room looking disheveled. Why?
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Since The Reaper had attacked him, Morgan and Reid had gone from friends who occasionally had sex, to something else neither of them could - or would - put a label on. Every free night in the two weeks since it had happened, Reid had forsaken his familiar apartment for the plush bachelor luxury of Morgan’s house. There was takeaway some nights, but also home cooked meals delivered by Morgan’s neighbour, an elderly Indian woman with three grown sons who had appeared to have taken Morgan under her wing. There was always TV, whatever was on or a movie while they ate. The other constant was the sex.
It was life-affirming sex, and it seemed they had a lot to affirm, because every night had featured furious sexuality, in the hallway, on the couch, on the floor, on the stairs, in the shower, on the bed; sometimes before food, sometimes after, sometimes both.
Reid was under Morgan on his bed, his legs around him and feet digging into the backs of his thighs, hands spread out wide and digging into his rear, desperate to pull him closer. Morgan couldn’t be closer, with his hard cock in Reid’s tight heat, resting on his forearms which were under Reid’s shoulders, putting their mouths close so they could kiss feverishly as Morgan moved.
“Fuck, pretty boy,” Morgan murmured, as the other man clung harder and urged his movements. Reid could only manage to moan at the sensation of friction and a constant indirect pressure on his prostate.
Morgan had had a lot of sex, Reid more than people would guess but considerably less than Morgan, but neither of them had ever had sex like this. Sex where every fibre of their being was focused on the other person, sex that felt like they could miss the end of the word happening around them, sex that poets could write about.
Reid was hot and tight and responsive, moaning and gasping against Morgan’s jaw. Morgan was a slab of powerful muscle, quieter, but the noises just as constant and they fucked. Reid’s hands slipped up his back and around to clutch his shoulder blades, nails digging into damp flesh.
“Morgan,” he breathed, dragging his teeth over the man’s chin, “Morgan, close, Morgan.”
Morgan’s phone rang. They both stopped at the sound of Hotch’s tone, and Morgan reached blindly for the bedside where his phone was vibrating. They didn’t separate or pull away as Morgan flipped open the phone and put it to his ear.
“Morgan,” he panted, trying to sound like he’d just been woken up rather than caught mid-sex. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll be right in. I’ll swing by and grab Reid on the way.” Under him, Reid smiled in a dazed sort of way.
After he signed off the call they waited for Reid’s, as the younger man’s body quivered with the effort of keeping still while Morgan’s cock was stretching him so deliciously. A moment later the call came in, and Morgan handed the man his phone.
“Reid,” he said, arching his hips upward. “Okay. Did he? Okay, I’ll be in soon.”
“We should get dressed,” Morgan said as Reid put down his phone.
“We should. After. Don’t stop.” Reid wiggled his hips. Morgan chuckled, and started to move again, dipping his mouth down to suck on Reid’s neck. He snaked a hand between them and grabbed Reid’s cock, helping to bring him off quickly. He came with a shout and a gasp, hips bucking wildly and his semen coating their bellies. Morgan hammered through, smacking his hips against the other man in the race for his own release. He came hard, grunting and pressing his teeth against the man’s neck, just biting down.
They lay panting for the few minutes they could spare. It wasn’t long, only long enough to pull out steadily and kiss breathlessly. They managed a two minute shower to wash off the smell of sex and threw on the first clothes they grabbed was all they could manage; both of them had a go-bag in their locker they could pick up.
As they headed up to their floor in the elevator, Morgan body-checked Reid, and sighed as he ran a hand over his head.
“Look at the state of us. They’re gonna know.”
“They’re not,” Reid said, feigning confidence as he readjusted his bag strap. “And even if they do...”
He let the words hang, and before Morgan could respond the elevator door opened. He smiled at Morgan, who gave a silent laugh that shook his shoulders once, and followed his friend out towards the BAU.