The Best Luck I Ever Had (4/4)
Title: The Best Luck I Ever Had
Authors: blueraccoon & sandersyager
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing/character: Derek Morgan/OMC, hints of Spencer Reid/OMC
Rating: NC-17/FRAO
Word Count: 26,717
Kink: first time, dirty talk, mild hand fetish, handjobs, oral sex
Warnings: sex between two consenting adult males; references to past relationship and child abuse and domestic violence
Summary: It's been a very long time since Derek Morgan's had someone in his life long enough to meet his friends and even longer since anyone's taken him home to meet their mother. When he meets Christian Godfrey, he gets all that and the bonus of a small white cat with more attitude than Garcia.
Notes & Cautions: We don't even pretend to like David Rossi (I'd feel bad for Rossi, but really, he's an asshole.-blueraccoon). We are also fully aware that several of the characters also appear in Blueraccoon's Geometry series and our joint project, Ranks of the Freaks; please forget what you know from those universes because this is an AU of an AU of an AU in which neither of those universes ever existed. kelly_girl, bookgodess15, henchgirl, and lillian13 poked holes in the plot, prodded us to keep writing and pointed out mistakes. We love them for it more than words can say.
Artist: sylum_tru made us a truly kickass banner and solved our (years long) issue of trying to cast Christian.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Single post (Redirects to Dreamwidth)
For a Cup of Coffee, the waaaaay overdue and long promised next installment
* * *
"Hello, hello, hel--goddess! I didn't know you'd be here tonight! Come give us a kiss,” Travis demands, holding the door open.
Garcia laughs, stretching up to kiss his cheek. "Already employing the royal we, honey? How many margaritas have you had?"
"Not even one," Travis says, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You look divine."
"Not one? We have to fix that," Garcia says, slipping her arm around his tiny waist and pulling him toward the kitchen. "The others will find their way and the lovebirds can greet the guests."
"I wanted to let them know about the hot tub, though," Travis protests. "Careful in the kitchen, Stephen's claimed it for setting up.
"Stephen will get over it. We need drinks," Garcia says. "Besides, Christian knows about your hot tub and he's very good at getting people naked from what I've heard. Or that might just be Derek."
"No, it's most people," Travis says, laughing. "But would you turn him down?"
"Depends. Is my beautiful profiler part of the package now or just Christian?" Garcia asks. "Oh, who am I kidding. One glance from him---which I won't get because he's as gay as you are---and I'd be out of this dress in three seconds."
"You need a drink," Travis says, pouring them both margaritas. "And I adore that dress on you. Very vintage meets high fashion."
"I wore it just for you," Garcia says, twirling once. "No other motivation for me here. You need straight friends, my love."
"Hm." Travis thinks. "I have a few, but they're women. Which helps you not at all. I'll go looking."
"If I wanted a woman, I'd date Abby," Garcia says with a sigh. "But then I'd have to take Tony, too, and one over the top braggart of a boy is all I can stand."
"Tony needs a daddy, not a goddess," Travis says. "So introduce me to your team. Do you think I'll scandalize them?"
"See the darling built like you talking to the gorgeous green-eyed god who better be single?" Garcia asks. "That's Spencer, Dr. Reid, the genius. You tell me, is he cute? And who's my future ex-boyfriend?"
"Warrick Brown and he's very married. Doctor, really? He's young." Travis considers. "If I get him into see my hair stylist and give him a change of clothes, he'd be gorgeous. As it is, he's got the dorky awkward thing working for him."
"Leave his hair alone," Garcia says, taking a sip of her margarita. "Jesus, could this be any stronger?"
"Christian made them," Travis says. "I keep forgetting to put a warning label on the pitcher."
"Well, I didn't drive and I know where your spare room is, so I'm not worried," Garcia says. "JJ just got here and I need to ask her about something, so go introduce yourself to Dr. Reid."
"Once you're done with JJ, introduce yourself to Stephen," Travis says. "Or David." He kisses Garcia on the cheek and takes himself over to Warrick and Reid.
"Travis, Spencer had a few questions about Kyle's collection," Warrick says. "Maybe you can answer them while I try to get the princess out of the kitchen?"
"Of course," Travis says. "Hi, honey. Welcome to my home. I'll give people a tour later." He slips his arm through Spencer's. "What can I do you for?"
"They... they weren't questions so much as being impressed with the quality of the pieces," Spencer says as Warrick walks away. He looks at Travis' hand on his arm, a little confused but too surprised to pull away.
"Kyle's been collecting for a while," Travis says. "Then again, he does this for a living."
"That's what Warrick said, and that his partner designed Kyle's dungeon," Spencer says. "He must really love his work to bring it home this way."
Travis laughs. "Running a dungeon isn't something you do for the money---although that's not bad," he says. "Most professionals do it because they love the lifestyle."
Spencer nods. "Everyone should be lucky enough to love what they do," he says. "What about you? The only thing I know is that you live here and you're Christian's partner in gay?"
"That's me," Travis says. "My official job title is executive assistant. I tried for Lord High Everything Else and got shot down."
"Mikado?" Spencer smiles.
"It just seemed appropriate," Travis says. "But my boss said we didn't work in the Mikado, and then we started arguing over what musical we did work in and then Bossman threw a Nerf dart at me and told me if I didn't stop thinking about it I wouldn't have to worry about it and well, it was just a usual day."
"I see," Spencer says with a brief nod. "This dart thing, it's normal where you work?"
"Nerf darts, remote controlled helicopters or fire engines, screaming monkeys, depends on the day," Travis says. "Do profilers not go for the fun so much?"
"Yes and no," Spencer says. "Depends on who gets in first, Hotch or Rossi."
"Which one of them is the party killer?" Travis asks.
"That'd be Rossi," Spencer says. "You should ask Garcia about him some time, or Morgan."
"I will," Travis says. "Can I get you a drink, honey?"
"Sure," Spencer says. "What've you got besides the margaritas? I've already been warned about them."
"Alcoholic or non?" Travis asks.
"Alcoholic, I think, beer if you've got it," Spencer says.
"Microbrew okay?" Travis asks, leading him to the kitchen. "Although I think we've got some Corona around somewhere, if David and Christian didn't drink it all last time."
Spencer shrugs. "The microbrew is fine, thanks."
"Sure thing. Have some food, while you're at it." Travis opens a bottle and hands it to Spencer, letting his fingers linger a little on Spencer's hand.
Spencer smiles at him, shaking his head slightly. "Do you flirt this much with all of your guests?" he asks.
"Only the cute ones, honey," Travis says, laughing. "Now, why don't you introduce me to one of your team I haven't met?"
"Emily or JJ?" Spencer asks. "I'm assuming you already know Derek, but that could be faulty logic."
"It is, actually," Travis says. "I haven't had the pleasure."
"But I thought... Okay, Morgan it is," Spencer says, looking around for him. He spots him talking to a slight man with longish dark hair. "And you can tell me who he's talking to."
"That would be Stephen, tonight's chef," Travis says. "Stephen, how many people did you cook for?"
Stephen looks up, startled. "Twenty-five--well, maybe thirty," he says. "Is something wrong?"
"Thirty sounds about right," Spencer says. "If they're all sumo wrestlers."
"Half of them are musicians, close enough," Stephen says, smiling. He holds out his hand. "Stephen Bond."
"Spencer Reid," he says, shaking Stephen's hand. "You're the architect who designed Eden and Decadence, aren't you?"
"I am," Stephen says, smiling. "Have you ever been to either one?"
"I've been to Decadence a few times," Spencer says. "I saw your name on the drawings Kyle has in the display. There are some similar elements to the main dining room of Decadence, aren't there?"
Derek sees where this conversation is going, and edges around Spencer to Travis. "I've been told to excuse my flaky musician... boyfriend for not making sure we'd met before tonight," he says. "Something about getting caught up in a new piece and meaning to invite me to dinner and... I don't know. Christian logic."
"Which is an oxymoron, isn't it?" Travis asks. "I adore Christian, but he's the epitome of the scatterbrained musician. Travis Wilson, pleasure to meet you." He holds out his hand.
Derek takes his hand. "Derek Morgan," he says. "I'm going to apologize right now for bringing a horde of profilers into your home."
"If they get too terrible, we'll throw them in the hot tub," Travis says. "Or lock them up in the playroom. Would you like a drink? Food? The tour?"
"How about a drink and the tour?" Derek says. "And I'm guessing the friendly interrogation comes somewhere in there."
Travis just smiles. "Margarita? Beer?"
"Coke," Derek says. "I've had Christian's margaritas and I'd like to be able to walk out of here at the end of the night instead of crawl."
"We do have guest rooms," Travis says, getting Derek a Coke. "Let's start at the top and work our way down." He winks and leads Derek up the stairs to the third floor, which has Kyle's home gym, the roof deck, and Kyle's office.
"This place is pretty incredible," Derek says. "I'd kill to have a gym like that at home."
"That's all Kyle," Travis says. "Hot tub's open for use, if we're lucky we'll get a few people in it tonight."
"I don't doubt it," Derek says. "How long have you and Kyle been together?"
"Two years now," Travis says, leading Derek down to the second floor. "So where are you from, honey?"
"Originally? I grew up in Chicago," Derek says.
"Did you move out here for the FBI or some other reason? Master suite, spare room, laundry, and that's the playroom which we don't have to look at if you don't want," Travis says.
"I'd like to see it," Derek says. "I don't really play, but it doesn't bother me." He shrugs. "I moved out here when I transferred to the BAU. It only works out of Quantico."
"Makes sense," Travis says, opening the door to the playroom. "It's not as impressive as, say, Stephen's, but we like it."
Derek steps inside the room after a glance at Travis. It's nice to see a playroom that isn't hidden away in a basement and, more importantly, that isn't covered in blood. "I think this is the one place where Christian and I are really of different minds."
"How's that?" Travis asks.
"We haven't talked much about it, but I think he'd almost rather be with someone into the scene," Derek says. "Or at least more into the equipment and toys part of it."
"Mm." Travis sips his drink. "Christian is...a bit conflicted about what he wants," he says. "He's trying to reclaim his life and so far hasn't done the best job of it."
Derek nods. "I know how that can go," he says. "Can we just get something out of the way, Travis?"
"Of course," Travis says.
"I like Christian," Derek says. "I could probably... I could probably fall in love with him. I can't stand to tell him no about anything, even some of the weird experimental instrumental music he's made me listen to, and I hate the idea of ever hurting him, both because he's him and because I'm terrified of his mum." He takes a breath and takes a sip of his drink. "There. I just wanted that out there."
Travis grins. "Well, that takes the sails out of my speech, but I'll tell you anyway. He's been hurt before. You hurt him again, I will ruin your life. You're an FBI agent, but believe me when I say I don't make idle threats. So. Shall we move on?"
"Yeah. I don't think you've got anything to worry about," Derek says. "Just... that thing about falling in love with him, if that could stay between us, I'd appreciate it."
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Travis says. "I've just been showing you the playroom."
"Exactly," Derek says. "So many modifications did you have to make to room? I'm guessing it's somewhat soundproof."
"Completely," Travis says. "Although really we soundproofed all the bedrooms and the offices. We reinforced that wall, padded the floor, installed a dimmer switch on the lighting, usual stuff."
"I think my frame of reference for usual stuff and playrooms is probably dramatically different from yours," Derek says as they make their way out.
"What's your usual frame of reference for playrooms?" Travis asks. "I have to show off the master bath, by the way, it's my favorite room in the house."
"Far more blood, a few body parts, emaciated women hanging from hooks," Derek says as blandly as possible. "Sadism combined with sociopathology or psychopathology doesn't tend to end well."
"No, I can imagine it doesn't," Travis says. "I prefer my world of safe, sane, and consensual."
"If everyone felt that way, my job would be a hell of a lot easier," Derek says.
"Do you enjoy what you do?" Travis asks as they head back downstairs.
"On the whole, yeah," Derek says. "It can be intense, and there's nothing remotely like a forty hour work week, but it's worth it."
"I haven't worked forty hours a week since I was in college," Travis says. "What is this thing called normal business hours?"
"It's an urban legend," Emily says, catching the tail end of the conversation. "Derek, who's your friend?"
"Travis, meet Emily," Derek says. "Emily has met Christian's margaritas."
"Yes, yes, I have," Emily says, raising her glass to take a sip. "I've yet to meet Christian, but I think he's probably a god and we should bring him with us on every case."
Derek laughs. "I'll tell him you said so as soon as I find him. Excuse me."
"I don't think he'd like that very much," Travis says. "Especially if it involved getting out of bed before ten. It's lovely to meet you, Emily."
"I'm sure we could arrange to let him stay in bed. We can't drink on the clock anyway," Emily says. "But coming back to the hotel, a nice strong drink waiting... I could support that plan."
Travis laughs. "I know the feeling," he says. "I went out drinking once with my boss after a week of hideous negotiations. This is when I learned that my boss has an iron head and sake and I don't mix as well as I'd like."
"I'm not sure anyone mixes well with sake," Emily says, gently steering him toward the closest tray of brownies. "What do you do?"
"My official title is executive assistant," Travis says. "I prefer to think of myself as Lord High Everything Else."
Emily giggles, placing a pair of brownies on one of the small plates. "Let's find a seat, I'll share my chocolate and you can tell me about it," she says. "Or you can tell me everything you know about the god of mixed drinks who has Morgan all but doing cartwheels in the office."
"Does he really? That's fabulous," Travis says. "Come, darling, the couch is this way, or we can go downstairs and hope people follow."
* * *
When Travis starts herding people toward the stairs and the hot tub, Warrick pulls David aside under the guise of helping to clean up the kitchen. Really, he just wants a reason to gossip like the queen he's not and David probably knows it as well he does. Fortunately, David really is a gossip queen.
"So, what do we think about this new guy?" Warrick asks, starting to consolidate the trays of baked goods.
"Cute," David says, stealing one last cookie. "Very cute. He's got a great ass." He hops up to sit on the counter. "First impressions aside, I think I like him. I like the way he looks at Christian."
"You know Stephen's going to send at least half of these home with you," Warrick says, pushing the platter of cookies toward David. "I think Christian's already got him wrapped around his little finger. I almost feel sorry for the guy."
"I don't," David says. "Christian needs someone who'll take care of him, whether he admits it or not."
"I said almost," Warrick points out. "It's not like I have room to call anybody whipped. Stephen makes sure of that." He shrugs and opens the cabinets in search of plastic wrap. "Derek's got a couple things going for him. He wasn't scared to meet us, he seems like he's got a brain, and he's got Christian meeting the people he cares about. It's a hell of a lot more than I can say for the last couple of guys Christian hooked up with."
"The less said about those two, the better," David mutters. "Although are you talking about the two nameless one-night stands or his last two attempts at relationships?"
"All of the above," Warrick says. "You know I love Christian, but he's had some horrible taste in men. You were the last one who was good to him, and that's a hell of a long bad patch to have after."
"Yeah," David says, taking another cookie. "It is. It's like he thinks he doesn't deserve someone good for him. Honestly, I'm more worried about him screwing this up than I am about Derek."
Warrick leans against the counter, reaching into the fridge for another beer. "I think we just don't let him," he says. "Travis likes this guy, you like him, I like him. Stephen just kind of stared and nodded and blushed a little, so I'd say he likes him. We keep him around and make Christian figure it out."
"Sounds good to me," David says. He sighs. "I do worry about the kink factor, though. Christian is, or at least was, and Derek isn't."
"People can learn," Warrick says. "If he knows about Christian's history, he could be hesitant about any kind of play. He's got some dominance about him, though, so who knows how it'll go."
"I think he knows," David says. "I don't know how much he knows, though. I don't think Christian's spelled out the details for him and I'm not about to."
Warrick nods. "It's Christian's to tell. I think Derek'll be able to handle it, though. Look at what he does, even if he's FBI."
David nods. "Yeah," he says. "I like his co-workers, too."
"Profilers," Warrick says, shaking his head. "Travis is going to end up with another pet from the way he's been flirting with Spencer. Kyle seems like he's all for it."
"Kyle likes to watch," David says with a shrug. "I'm amused at the way Spencer's never quite sure how to react."
"He's only twenty-six or something," Warrick says. "We call Christian a prodigy but this kid's got him beat. He's got a couple of doctorates already, and I remember reading about him when I was still living in Vegas. He graduated high school at, like, thirteen or something. I get the feeling he never had a lot of time to date."
"Probably not," David agrees. "He's cute, in a very dorky way."
"Oh, come on, he's not that dorky," Warrick says. "The sweater vest is a little hard to defend, but put him in a nice suit, and he'd just be cute."
"Yeah, he would," David agrees. "I wonder if he plays."
"You could go ask him," Warrick says, looking at trays of leftovers. "I think this is about as done as it's going to get. Let's go find the others."
David hops off the counter. "Let's," he agrees.
* * *
Garcia steals one of the mostly empty trays of desserts before Warrick takes them all into the kitchen and takes it into the living room, sitting down next to Derek and leaning her head against his shoulder. Prentiss, following the chocolate, takes a brownie and a spare chair, making herself comfortable. “One boy's a god of mixed drinks, the other...Jesus, I haven't had a brownie this good in I don't know how long. Morgan, you've got good taste,” she says, taking small bites of her brownie to make it last.
“All blind luck,” Derek says, laughing. “You could have taken Boston and this never would have happened.”
“I think I speak for us all when I say I’m glad you went,” Prentiss says.
“Enjoy the brownies. I’m getting ready to go find the god of mixed drinks and head up to the hot tub,” Derek says.
“He needs a shorter name,” Prentiss decides. “How about Apollo?"
“How about Christian?” Derek asks. “Since that's, you know, his name.”
“Dionysus would be more appropriate, god of wine,” Garcia points out.
“But Apollo’s the god of music,” Prentiss says, finishing her brownie.
“But we were coming up with an alternative for the god of mixed drinks, not god of music,” Garcia says reasonably.
“Ladies, while I’m sure he'll thrilled to know two such lovely goddesses were arguing over him, I think just calling him Christian will be fine,” Derek says.
Prentiss shrugs. “Garcia, what do we call the god of brownies?”
“Stephen. He gets pissy about anything else,” Garcia says.
“With brownies these good, he's allowed to be pissy,” Prentiss says.
“Definitely time for me to go find Christian,” Derek says. He kisses both of their cheeks. “Remember to take the leftovers and the tray back to the kitchen.”
“Fine, abandon us for your boytoy,” Garcia says, eyes sparkling.“Try and keep Reid out of trouble.”
“Isn’t Reid off somewhere with Travis?” Prentiss asks.
Garcia nods. “I think Travis is 'showing him the house,'” she says, complete with finger quotes.
Prentiss shakes her head, laughing. “Who saw that one coming?”
Garcia grins and licks chocolate off her fingers. “With the way they've been flirting? Everyone. It'll be good for Reid. Travis will make sure he relaxes, maybe get him to laugh a little, burn the sweater vests...”
“So tell me about Travis, then,” Prentiss says, crossing her legs and leaning back.
“He didn't tell you everything already?” Garcia asks, mildly surprised.
“I didn't talk to him that much,” Prentiss says. “What I gathered is that he lives well, has expensive taste, is an outrageous flirt, and rather brilliant. You tell me the rest.”
“If that's all you picked up, you might want to reconsider this profiler thing,” Garcia says. “He's Gil Sampson’s executive assistant at Maverick, so he lives very well and can afford to satisfy his tastes. Flirts with everyone, pretty much only ever goes home with Daddy Kyle.”
Prentiss whistles. "It's not like I've had time to run a background check on him, and he didn't tell who he worked for. I'm impressed."
“A check wouldn't turn up anything, not the way you run them,” Garcia says with a snort. “Now, me, I can tell you he's got one of the biggest credit limits I’ve ever seen, and a passport full of stamps.” She shrugs. “He asked me what was out there. I looked.”
“What else can you tell me?” Prentiss asks.
“He’s basically a really good guy with a fondness for playing fairy godfather. I think he bought Christian his apartment, and I know he replaced Abby’s car when her hearse died. He lived in New York for a while and tried to make it on Broadway, threw in the towel came back here and talked himself into the job at maverick. I think he genuinely likes Reid, and he threatened to completely ruin Derek if he ever hurts Christian but approves of their relationship.”
Prentiss reaches for another brownie. “And what have you turned up on Christian, god of mixed drinks?”
Garcia fiddles with the straw in her drink. “I haven't.”
“Really? Why not?” Prentiss asks.
“I mean, there's stuff I’ve found, yes. The morning after they hooked up, Derek had me look his band up online, but I didn't run a complete search for him. He's Derek’s boyfriend. I’m not going to do that,” Garcia says.
Prentiss nods. “Tell me about the band?”
Garcia digs her mini notebook out of her bag and latches onto Travis and Kyle's wireless with very little effort, bringing up Belfry's site. “Vaguely Celtic inspired, all four of them are smoking hot, and they're getting ready to start a tour.”
“Huh.” Prentiss leans forward to look. “Is it me or does the drummer look a tiny bit like Morgan?”
Garcia laughs. “I was thinking a little more Taye Diggs than Morgan, but yeah.”
“Mm. I like,” Prentiss says with a nod.
“I saw him first,” Garcia warns her.
Prentiss laughs. “Have you even met him?”
“Actually, yeah. Two years ago, two and a half maybe, they were playing that hole in the wall bar down the street from Derek and we went with Elle. It was right before... huh. That was right before they went to Jamaica,” Garcia says, remembering.
“Way before my time.” Prentiss says. “How good are they?”
“Oh, they're really good,” Garcia says. She clicks on one of the tracks available for online listening.
Prentiss listens, eyebrows going up. “Wow. Just wow.”
Garcia nods. “And that's just Jared and Christian, after Derek kept Christian up all night before the radio interview.”
“They playing around here any time soon?” Prentiss asks.
“I don't know. All the tour page says is coming soon,” Garcia says.
“We’ll hope for soon,” Prentiss says. “So what do we think of Derek and Christian together?” she asks, finally bringing the subject around to the reason she sat down with Garcia.
Garcia hesitates, making one face and then another. “I don't know. They're very pretty together,” she says finally.
“What’s the hesitation?” Prentiss asks.
“You have to ask?” Garcia asks in return.
Prentiss nods. “Yeah, I do.”
Garcia sighs. “Have you ever heard Derek mention the same woman or man twice?”
“Normally he doesn't even mention them,” Prentiss points out.
“Okay, maybe not to you. This is the longest I’ve seen him with anybody ever. Derek and long term relationship? Not words anyone, anywhere has ever used in the same sentence unless the verb is avoids,” Garcia says.
“And Christian’s a nice guy. He's got a few skeletons in his closet, but don't we all?” Prentiss asks.
“Around here, it's usually literal,” Garcia says with a snort.
“Don’t remind me of Ohio,” Prentiss says with a wince.
“I was thinking Florida, but those was entire bodies,” Garcia says.
“Minus a few parts here and there,” Prentiss agrees, wrinkling her nose.
Garcia shivers and reaches for another brownie. “Never need to see that again. Ever.”
“No,” Prentiss says, taking a cookie.
***
“Are we going dancing?” David asks, looking at the ladies. He’s not quite sure how he ended up surrounded by women, but whatever, going out dancing sounds like fun.
“Ofcourse we are, cutie,” Garcia says. “Where else would we find you a boy for the evening?”
“I don't need a boy for the evening when I’m surrounded by such lovely women,” David says with a grin.
Garcia laughs. “That’s sweet but you're too cute to go home alone, and I think you're about as interested in women as I am in fly fishing.”
“Probably less,” David says, considering it.
“Don’t underestimate my complete and total disinterest in fly-fishing,” Garcia tells him.
David holds up his hands. “I admire women. I respect them. I think if I ever got into bed with one it'd be a disaster on the magnitude of Pompeii.”
“Exactly my feeling about fishing,” Garcia says, smiling up at him. “Now, we've settled that. We'll find you a boy, me a someone and Emily and JJ a cab.”
“Yes ma'am,” David says, smiling back. “Where would you like to go?”
***
Derek watches them leave, a smile on his face as he wraps his arms around Christian. "Looks like our friends are getting along. Maybe a little too well," he says.
"What do you mean?" Christian asks, leaning back against him and turning to kiss his cheek.
"You really have to see it for yourself, but Travis has Reid up in the hot tub," Derek says. "I think he's, ah, trying to talk him into a threesome with him and Kyle."
Christian's eyebrows go up so fast that Derek's a little worried they'll shoot right off of his face. "But-how-they---" He turns to face Derek. "Huh."
"Exactly," Derek says. "I can't get my head around it, either, and I kinda don't want to. The two skinniest men I've ever met and the body builder."
"We need to go see this," Christian decides, taking Derek's hand and pulling him toward the stairs.
"As long as we get to go home afterward," Derek says.
***
The phone rings at waythefucktooearly the day after the party and Christian slits an eye open, glaring balefully at it. "Go 'way," he mumbles, reaching out to grab the little device. It takes him two tries to open it and he yawns, tucking it between his ear and the bed. "Travis, what d'you want?"
"First of all, don't be grumpy at me, it's already after eleven," Travis says. "I called to see how you thought the party went, darling. I heard from David this morning that while he didn't get laid last night, he did have a lovely time out dancing with the ladies."
"David never gets laid these days unless the guy's an arse," Christian says. "He's taking a page from my dating book or something."
"Which means that Mr. Right is just around the corner, and then he'll be blissfully happy," Travis says. "Did you get a chance to talk to Spencer much?"
"No," Christian says, yawning again. "You monopolized his time and I had a house full of other people to talk to. What do you want to know about him? You know what, hold on." He rolls over and pokes Derek. "Phone for you," he says, holding it out.
Derek pokes Christian back, opening one eye. "No one I know calls before noon on Saturday unless bodies are involved," he says, or something sort of like it, punctuated by yawns as he takes the phone. "Carol?"
"Lord, I hope not," Travis says. "It's already after eleven, darling. The party didn't end that late."
"Your party didn't end that late," Derek says, rolling toward Christian to drape one arm around his waist.
Travis laughs. "Not for lack of trying," he says. "I thought you'd like to know that we've decided to keep both you and your teammates around. And now I need to know what you can tell me about the darling Spencer Reid."
"Oh, God," Derek groans, leaning his head against Christian's shoulder. "What do you want to know? Why?"
"I want to know everything, honey," Travis says. "I'll settle for what's not classified. Favorite ice cream flavor, movie, all that sort of thing. I couldn't talk him into staying over with me and Daddy last night but I have hopes for the future."
"I didn't hear that," Derek says. "I did not hear that. This is all a really bizarre dream and I did not hear that."
Travis sighs. "You are hopeless," he says. "I'll have to hit up Garcia for information, since you're being grumpy about it. Shall I let you go back to sleep now, honey?"
"You call my baby girl before three and she'll turn your computer into a very expensive paper weight," Derek says. "I'll tell you, just... leave out the part where you're trying to, ah, 'have hopes for the future.'"
"Pretend you never heard it," Travis says. "But if I were to want to develop a relationship with Spencer, how would I go about doing it?"
Derek mutes the phone, half laughing and half whimpering, wholly disturbed and dying to call Garcia except for the part where he likes his computer functional. "Probably not by asking me that question," he says when he turns the phone back. "Coffee, books, academic lectures if you can keep up with the conversation afterward. Museums, he likes modern art but pretends he doesn't. Classical music, classical poetry, remember he's smarter than anyone else you'll probably ever meet and had a PhD before he could buy alcohol, but don't treat him like it. He already knows he's the smartest person in the room, you remind him and he'll hide behind it. Don't expect him to know pop culture unless it's Star Trek. Never tell him I profiled him for you and never tell me if you see him naked."
"Perfect," Travis says. "Thank you ever so much, darling. I have to call him next, we're having coffee later today. Will he be grumpy if I call before noon?"
"He's been up since eight," Derek says. "And, Travis, one more thing."
"Yes?" Travis asks.
"The kid's made of steel," Derek says. "Bends under pressure but he doesn't break. Don't underestimate him."
"I won't," Travis says simply. "One last thing for you before I let you go back to snuggling, darling."
"Yes, dear?" Derek says, mildly afraid of what Travis might come up with.
"Christian gets to keep you," Travis says. "You won an unqualified approval from his nearest and dearest last night. Lovely job. Lovely talking to you, darling."
"Yeah, you, too," Derek says, smiling as he turns off the phone. "Good news, Christian."
"What's that?" Christian mumbles. "Can we go back to sleep now?"
"You get to keep me," Derek says, leaning over him to put his phone back on the nightstand. "I, quote, won an unqualified approval, end quote, from your friends. Now, you can go back to sleep."
"Was going to keep you whether they approved or not," Christian says, snuggling into Derek. "But that's--bugger me." He flops on his back and sighs as Derek's phone rings. "Don't answer it."
"We'll get to the buggering later," Derek says with a laugh, stretching over Christian again to grab his own phone. He looks at the display and groans. "Spencer, it's early."
"It's almost noon," Spencer protests. "Early, when talking about---"
"I don't care," Derek says, cutting him off. "If you statistic me now, I will tell Garcia you write sonnets about her."
"Oh, that's just mean," Spencer says. "I wasn't calling to talk to you anyway. I was hoping to talk to Christian. I... have some things to ask him. About a friend of his."
"Travis. I know," Derek says, poking Christian. "He's all yours."
"Ow," Christian protests. "That wasn't very nice." He takes the phone. "I feel like I'm in a bad sitcom. What do you want to know about Travis, honey?"
"What does he do?" Spencer asks. "I mean, what does he like to do? I know he shops and spoils people and, apparently, buys books, but I'm having coffee with him and, well, what do we do after?"
"Let him buy you things," Christian says, stifling a yawn. "Either that, or go to a museum, or a show. He's not a huge movie fan but he adores live theater--he used to be a dancer. He likes wandering around the city randomly to people watch and stuff. Just don't let him get more than an hour away from a cup of coffee or he gets really, really bitchy."
"Right. Okay. I can---I can do that," Spencer says. "Okay. Thank you."
"I'm serious about letting him buy you stuff," Christian says, snuggling back against Derek. "With Travis, spending money equals a show of affection. If he offers you an apartment, he loves you."
"Well, I don't... need an apartment. I'll keep the rest in mind, though," Spencer says. "Last night was fun. You really like Derek, and that's good. He needs somebody who---it's none of my business, really, but you both kind of light up around each other. That's what Hotch said and he's not wrong. So, thanks and tell Derek I'm sorry for waking him up."
"You didn't," Christian says. "We were sort of awake anyway. I'll pass on the message. Have good coffee, honey." He closes the phone, drops it next to his, and rolls over to face Derek. "Your boss says we light up around each other," he says around a yawn. "Are we Christmas decorations?"
"You're weird and literal," Derek says, tucking his head against Christian's shoulder. "Sleep before Mimi realizes it's----" A loud meow and a paw against his neck puts that to end. "I love you, Christian, and I'm going to feed the cat but if your mother calls, I'm not here."
"If Mum calls, I'm not here," Christian says. "Love you too. Thank you for feeding the cat." He closes his eyes and pulls the pillow over his head.
Derek rolls over and finds himself face to face with Mimi, wearing a little cat smirk just before she bats his nose with her paw. He grins and decides to take it as approval.
Now with added second installment, For a Cup of Coffee at DW.
Authors: blueraccoon & sandersyager
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing/character: Derek Morgan/OMC, hints of Spencer Reid/OMC
Rating: NC-17/FRAO
Word Count: 26,717
Kink: first time, dirty talk, mild hand fetish, handjobs, oral sex
Warnings: sex between two consenting adult males; references to past relationship and child abuse and domestic violence
Summary: It's been a very long time since Derek Morgan's had someone in his life long enough to meet his friends and even longer since anyone's taken him home to meet their mother. When he meets Christian Godfrey, he gets all that and the bonus of a small white cat with more attitude than Garcia.
Notes & Cautions: We don't even pretend to like David Rossi (I'd feel bad for Rossi, but really, he's an asshole.-blueraccoon). We are also fully aware that several of the characters also appear in Blueraccoon's Geometry series and our joint project, Ranks of the Freaks; please forget what you know from those universes because this is an AU of an AU of an AU in which neither of those universes ever existed. kelly_girl, bookgodess15, henchgirl, and lillian13 poked holes in the plot, prodded us to keep writing and pointed out mistakes. We love them for it more than words can say.
Artist: sylum_tru made us a truly kickass banner and solved our (years long) issue of trying to cast Christian.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Single post (Redirects to Dreamwidth)
For a Cup of Coffee, the waaaaay overdue and long promised next installment
* * *
"Hello, hello, hel--goddess! I didn't know you'd be here tonight! Come give us a kiss,” Travis demands, holding the door open.
Garcia laughs, stretching up to kiss his cheek. "Already employing the royal we, honey? How many margaritas have you had?"
"Not even one," Travis says, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You look divine."
"Not one? We have to fix that," Garcia says, slipping her arm around his tiny waist and pulling him toward the kitchen. "The others will find their way and the lovebirds can greet the guests."
"I wanted to let them know about the hot tub, though," Travis protests. "Careful in the kitchen, Stephen's claimed it for setting up.
"Stephen will get over it. We need drinks," Garcia says. "Besides, Christian knows about your hot tub and he's very good at getting people naked from what I've heard. Or that might just be Derek."
"No, it's most people," Travis says, laughing. "But would you turn him down?"
"Depends. Is my beautiful profiler part of the package now or just Christian?" Garcia asks. "Oh, who am I kidding. One glance from him---which I won't get because he's as gay as you are---and I'd be out of this dress in three seconds."
"You need a drink," Travis says, pouring them both margaritas. "And I adore that dress on you. Very vintage meets high fashion."
"I wore it just for you," Garcia says, twirling once. "No other motivation for me here. You need straight friends, my love."
"Hm." Travis thinks. "I have a few, but they're women. Which helps you not at all. I'll go looking."
"If I wanted a woman, I'd date Abby," Garcia says with a sigh. "But then I'd have to take Tony, too, and one over the top braggart of a boy is all I can stand."
"Tony needs a daddy, not a goddess," Travis says. "So introduce me to your team. Do you think I'll scandalize them?"
"See the darling built like you talking to the gorgeous green-eyed god who better be single?" Garcia asks. "That's Spencer, Dr. Reid, the genius. You tell me, is he cute? And who's my future ex-boyfriend?"
"Warrick Brown and he's very married. Doctor, really? He's young." Travis considers. "If I get him into see my hair stylist and give him a change of clothes, he'd be gorgeous. As it is, he's got the dorky awkward thing working for him."
"Leave his hair alone," Garcia says, taking a sip of her margarita. "Jesus, could this be any stronger?"
"Christian made them," Travis says. "I keep forgetting to put a warning label on the pitcher."
"Well, I didn't drive and I know where your spare room is, so I'm not worried," Garcia says. "JJ just got here and I need to ask her about something, so go introduce yourself to Dr. Reid."
"Once you're done with JJ, introduce yourself to Stephen," Travis says. "Or David." He kisses Garcia on the cheek and takes himself over to Warrick and Reid.
"Travis, Spencer had a few questions about Kyle's collection," Warrick says. "Maybe you can answer them while I try to get the princess out of the kitchen?"
"Of course," Travis says. "Hi, honey. Welcome to my home. I'll give people a tour later." He slips his arm through Spencer's. "What can I do you for?"
"They... they weren't questions so much as being impressed with the quality of the pieces," Spencer says as Warrick walks away. He looks at Travis' hand on his arm, a little confused but too surprised to pull away.
"Kyle's been collecting for a while," Travis says. "Then again, he does this for a living."
"That's what Warrick said, and that his partner designed Kyle's dungeon," Spencer says. "He must really love his work to bring it home this way."
Travis laughs. "Running a dungeon isn't something you do for the money---although that's not bad," he says. "Most professionals do it because they love the lifestyle."
Spencer nods. "Everyone should be lucky enough to love what they do," he says. "What about you? The only thing I know is that you live here and you're Christian's partner in gay?"
"That's me," Travis says. "My official job title is executive assistant. I tried for Lord High Everything Else and got shot down."
"Mikado?" Spencer smiles.
"It just seemed appropriate," Travis says. "But my boss said we didn't work in the Mikado, and then we started arguing over what musical we did work in and then Bossman threw a Nerf dart at me and told me if I didn't stop thinking about it I wouldn't have to worry about it and well, it was just a usual day."
"I see," Spencer says with a brief nod. "This dart thing, it's normal where you work?"
"Nerf darts, remote controlled helicopters or fire engines, screaming monkeys, depends on the day," Travis says. "Do profilers not go for the fun so much?"
"Yes and no," Spencer says. "Depends on who gets in first, Hotch or Rossi."
"Which one of them is the party killer?" Travis asks.
"That'd be Rossi," Spencer says. "You should ask Garcia about him some time, or Morgan."
"I will," Travis says. "Can I get you a drink, honey?"
"Sure," Spencer says. "What've you got besides the margaritas? I've already been warned about them."
"Alcoholic or non?" Travis asks.
"Alcoholic, I think, beer if you've got it," Spencer says.
"Microbrew okay?" Travis asks, leading him to the kitchen. "Although I think we've got some Corona around somewhere, if David and Christian didn't drink it all last time."
Spencer shrugs. "The microbrew is fine, thanks."
"Sure thing. Have some food, while you're at it." Travis opens a bottle and hands it to Spencer, letting his fingers linger a little on Spencer's hand.
Spencer smiles at him, shaking his head slightly. "Do you flirt this much with all of your guests?" he asks.
"Only the cute ones, honey," Travis says, laughing. "Now, why don't you introduce me to one of your team I haven't met?"
"Emily or JJ?" Spencer asks. "I'm assuming you already know Derek, but that could be faulty logic."
"It is, actually," Travis says. "I haven't had the pleasure."
"But I thought... Okay, Morgan it is," Spencer says, looking around for him. He spots him talking to a slight man with longish dark hair. "And you can tell me who he's talking to."
"That would be Stephen, tonight's chef," Travis says. "Stephen, how many people did you cook for?"
Stephen looks up, startled. "Twenty-five--well, maybe thirty," he says. "Is something wrong?"
"Thirty sounds about right," Spencer says. "If they're all sumo wrestlers."
"Half of them are musicians, close enough," Stephen says, smiling. He holds out his hand. "Stephen Bond."
"Spencer Reid," he says, shaking Stephen's hand. "You're the architect who designed Eden and Decadence, aren't you?"
"I am," Stephen says, smiling. "Have you ever been to either one?"
"I've been to Decadence a few times," Spencer says. "I saw your name on the drawings Kyle has in the display. There are some similar elements to the main dining room of Decadence, aren't there?"
Derek sees where this conversation is going, and edges around Spencer to Travis. "I've been told to excuse my flaky musician... boyfriend for not making sure we'd met before tonight," he says. "Something about getting caught up in a new piece and meaning to invite me to dinner and... I don't know. Christian logic."
"Which is an oxymoron, isn't it?" Travis asks. "I adore Christian, but he's the epitome of the scatterbrained musician. Travis Wilson, pleasure to meet you." He holds out his hand.
Derek takes his hand. "Derek Morgan," he says. "I'm going to apologize right now for bringing a horde of profilers into your home."
"If they get too terrible, we'll throw them in the hot tub," Travis says. "Or lock them up in the playroom. Would you like a drink? Food? The tour?"
"How about a drink and the tour?" Derek says. "And I'm guessing the friendly interrogation comes somewhere in there."
Travis just smiles. "Margarita? Beer?"
"Coke," Derek says. "I've had Christian's margaritas and I'd like to be able to walk out of here at the end of the night instead of crawl."
"We do have guest rooms," Travis says, getting Derek a Coke. "Let's start at the top and work our way down." He winks and leads Derek up the stairs to the third floor, which has Kyle's home gym, the roof deck, and Kyle's office.
"This place is pretty incredible," Derek says. "I'd kill to have a gym like that at home."
"That's all Kyle," Travis says. "Hot tub's open for use, if we're lucky we'll get a few people in it tonight."
"I don't doubt it," Derek says. "How long have you and Kyle been together?"
"Two years now," Travis says, leading Derek down to the second floor. "So where are you from, honey?"
"Originally? I grew up in Chicago," Derek says.
"Did you move out here for the FBI or some other reason? Master suite, spare room, laundry, and that's the playroom which we don't have to look at if you don't want," Travis says.
"I'd like to see it," Derek says. "I don't really play, but it doesn't bother me." He shrugs. "I moved out here when I transferred to the BAU. It only works out of Quantico."
"Makes sense," Travis says, opening the door to the playroom. "It's not as impressive as, say, Stephen's, but we like it."
Derek steps inside the room after a glance at Travis. It's nice to see a playroom that isn't hidden away in a basement and, more importantly, that isn't covered in blood. "I think this is the one place where Christian and I are really of different minds."
"How's that?" Travis asks.
"We haven't talked much about it, but I think he'd almost rather be with someone into the scene," Derek says. "Or at least more into the equipment and toys part of it."
"Mm." Travis sips his drink. "Christian is...a bit conflicted about what he wants," he says. "He's trying to reclaim his life and so far hasn't done the best job of it."
Derek nods. "I know how that can go," he says. "Can we just get something out of the way, Travis?"
"Of course," Travis says.
"I like Christian," Derek says. "I could probably... I could probably fall in love with him. I can't stand to tell him no about anything, even some of the weird experimental instrumental music he's made me listen to, and I hate the idea of ever hurting him, both because he's him and because I'm terrified of his mum." He takes a breath and takes a sip of his drink. "There. I just wanted that out there."
Travis grins. "Well, that takes the sails out of my speech, but I'll tell you anyway. He's been hurt before. You hurt him again, I will ruin your life. You're an FBI agent, but believe me when I say I don't make idle threats. So. Shall we move on?"
"Yeah. I don't think you've got anything to worry about," Derek says. "Just... that thing about falling in love with him, if that could stay between us, I'd appreciate it."
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Travis says. "I've just been showing you the playroom."
"Exactly," Derek says. "So many modifications did you have to make to room? I'm guessing it's somewhat soundproof."
"Completely," Travis says. "Although really we soundproofed all the bedrooms and the offices. We reinforced that wall, padded the floor, installed a dimmer switch on the lighting, usual stuff."
"I think my frame of reference for usual stuff and playrooms is probably dramatically different from yours," Derek says as they make their way out.
"What's your usual frame of reference for playrooms?" Travis asks. "I have to show off the master bath, by the way, it's my favorite room in the house."
"Far more blood, a few body parts, emaciated women hanging from hooks," Derek says as blandly as possible. "Sadism combined with sociopathology or psychopathology doesn't tend to end well."
"No, I can imagine it doesn't," Travis says. "I prefer my world of safe, sane, and consensual."
"If everyone felt that way, my job would be a hell of a lot easier," Derek says.
"Do you enjoy what you do?" Travis asks as they head back downstairs.
"On the whole, yeah," Derek says. "It can be intense, and there's nothing remotely like a forty hour work week, but it's worth it."
"I haven't worked forty hours a week since I was in college," Travis says. "What is this thing called normal business hours?"
"It's an urban legend," Emily says, catching the tail end of the conversation. "Derek, who's your friend?"
"Travis, meet Emily," Derek says. "Emily has met Christian's margaritas."
"Yes, yes, I have," Emily says, raising her glass to take a sip. "I've yet to meet Christian, but I think he's probably a god and we should bring him with us on every case."
Derek laughs. "I'll tell him you said so as soon as I find him. Excuse me."
"I don't think he'd like that very much," Travis says. "Especially if it involved getting out of bed before ten. It's lovely to meet you, Emily."
"I'm sure we could arrange to let him stay in bed. We can't drink on the clock anyway," Emily says. "But coming back to the hotel, a nice strong drink waiting... I could support that plan."
Travis laughs. "I know the feeling," he says. "I went out drinking once with my boss after a week of hideous negotiations. This is when I learned that my boss has an iron head and sake and I don't mix as well as I'd like."
"I'm not sure anyone mixes well with sake," Emily says, gently steering him toward the closest tray of brownies. "What do you do?"
"My official title is executive assistant," Travis says. "I prefer to think of myself as Lord High Everything Else."
Emily giggles, placing a pair of brownies on one of the small plates. "Let's find a seat, I'll share my chocolate and you can tell me about it," she says. "Or you can tell me everything you know about the god of mixed drinks who has Morgan all but doing cartwheels in the office."
"Does he really? That's fabulous," Travis says. "Come, darling, the couch is this way, or we can go downstairs and hope people follow."
* * *
When Travis starts herding people toward the stairs and the hot tub, Warrick pulls David aside under the guise of helping to clean up the kitchen. Really, he just wants a reason to gossip like the queen he's not and David probably knows it as well he does. Fortunately, David really is a gossip queen.
"So, what do we think about this new guy?" Warrick asks, starting to consolidate the trays of baked goods.
"Cute," David says, stealing one last cookie. "Very cute. He's got a great ass." He hops up to sit on the counter. "First impressions aside, I think I like him. I like the way he looks at Christian."
"You know Stephen's going to send at least half of these home with you," Warrick says, pushing the platter of cookies toward David. "I think Christian's already got him wrapped around his little finger. I almost feel sorry for the guy."
"I don't," David says. "Christian needs someone who'll take care of him, whether he admits it or not."
"I said almost," Warrick points out. "It's not like I have room to call anybody whipped. Stephen makes sure of that." He shrugs and opens the cabinets in search of plastic wrap. "Derek's got a couple things going for him. He wasn't scared to meet us, he seems like he's got a brain, and he's got Christian meeting the people he cares about. It's a hell of a lot more than I can say for the last couple of guys Christian hooked up with."
"The less said about those two, the better," David mutters. "Although are you talking about the two nameless one-night stands or his last two attempts at relationships?"
"All of the above," Warrick says. "You know I love Christian, but he's had some horrible taste in men. You were the last one who was good to him, and that's a hell of a long bad patch to have after."
"Yeah," David says, taking another cookie. "It is. It's like he thinks he doesn't deserve someone good for him. Honestly, I'm more worried about him screwing this up than I am about Derek."
Warrick leans against the counter, reaching into the fridge for another beer. "I think we just don't let him," he says. "Travis likes this guy, you like him, I like him. Stephen just kind of stared and nodded and blushed a little, so I'd say he likes him. We keep him around and make Christian figure it out."
"Sounds good to me," David says. He sighs. "I do worry about the kink factor, though. Christian is, or at least was, and Derek isn't."
"People can learn," Warrick says. "If he knows about Christian's history, he could be hesitant about any kind of play. He's got some dominance about him, though, so who knows how it'll go."
"I think he knows," David says. "I don't know how much he knows, though. I don't think Christian's spelled out the details for him and I'm not about to."
Warrick nods. "It's Christian's to tell. I think Derek'll be able to handle it, though. Look at what he does, even if he's FBI."
David nods. "Yeah," he says. "I like his co-workers, too."
"Profilers," Warrick says, shaking his head. "Travis is going to end up with another pet from the way he's been flirting with Spencer. Kyle seems like he's all for it."
"Kyle likes to watch," David says with a shrug. "I'm amused at the way Spencer's never quite sure how to react."
"He's only twenty-six or something," Warrick says. "We call Christian a prodigy but this kid's got him beat. He's got a couple of doctorates already, and I remember reading about him when I was still living in Vegas. He graduated high school at, like, thirteen or something. I get the feeling he never had a lot of time to date."
"Probably not," David agrees. "He's cute, in a very dorky way."
"Oh, come on, he's not that dorky," Warrick says. "The sweater vest is a little hard to defend, but put him in a nice suit, and he'd just be cute."
"Yeah, he would," David agrees. "I wonder if he plays."
"You could go ask him," Warrick says, looking at trays of leftovers. "I think this is about as done as it's going to get. Let's go find the others."
David hops off the counter. "Let's," he agrees.
* * *
Garcia steals one of the mostly empty trays of desserts before Warrick takes them all into the kitchen and takes it into the living room, sitting down next to Derek and leaning her head against his shoulder. Prentiss, following the chocolate, takes a brownie and a spare chair, making herself comfortable. “One boy's a god of mixed drinks, the other...Jesus, I haven't had a brownie this good in I don't know how long. Morgan, you've got good taste,” she says, taking small bites of her brownie to make it last.
“All blind luck,” Derek says, laughing. “You could have taken Boston and this never would have happened.”
“I think I speak for us all when I say I’m glad you went,” Prentiss says.
“Enjoy the brownies. I’m getting ready to go find the god of mixed drinks and head up to the hot tub,” Derek says.
“He needs a shorter name,” Prentiss decides. “How about Apollo?"
“How about Christian?” Derek asks. “Since that's, you know, his name.”
“Dionysus would be more appropriate, god of wine,” Garcia points out.
“But Apollo’s the god of music,” Prentiss says, finishing her brownie.
“But we were coming up with an alternative for the god of mixed drinks, not god of music,” Garcia says reasonably.
“Ladies, while I’m sure he'll thrilled to know two such lovely goddesses were arguing over him, I think just calling him Christian will be fine,” Derek says.
Prentiss shrugs. “Garcia, what do we call the god of brownies?”
“Stephen. He gets pissy about anything else,” Garcia says.
“With brownies these good, he's allowed to be pissy,” Prentiss says.
“Definitely time for me to go find Christian,” Derek says. He kisses both of their cheeks. “Remember to take the leftovers and the tray back to the kitchen.”
“Fine, abandon us for your boytoy,” Garcia says, eyes sparkling.“Try and keep Reid out of trouble.”
“Isn’t Reid off somewhere with Travis?” Prentiss asks.
Garcia nods. “I think Travis is 'showing him the house,'” she says, complete with finger quotes.
Prentiss shakes her head, laughing. “Who saw that one coming?”
Garcia grins and licks chocolate off her fingers. “With the way they've been flirting? Everyone. It'll be good for Reid. Travis will make sure he relaxes, maybe get him to laugh a little, burn the sweater vests...”
“So tell me about Travis, then,” Prentiss says, crossing her legs and leaning back.
“He didn't tell you everything already?” Garcia asks, mildly surprised.
“I didn't talk to him that much,” Prentiss says. “What I gathered is that he lives well, has expensive taste, is an outrageous flirt, and rather brilliant. You tell me the rest.”
“If that's all you picked up, you might want to reconsider this profiler thing,” Garcia says. “He's Gil Sampson’s executive assistant at Maverick, so he lives very well and can afford to satisfy his tastes. Flirts with everyone, pretty much only ever goes home with Daddy Kyle.”
Prentiss whistles. "It's not like I've had time to run a background check on him, and he didn't tell who he worked for. I'm impressed."
“A check wouldn't turn up anything, not the way you run them,” Garcia says with a snort. “Now, me, I can tell you he's got one of the biggest credit limits I’ve ever seen, and a passport full of stamps.” She shrugs. “He asked me what was out there. I looked.”
“What else can you tell me?” Prentiss asks.
“He’s basically a really good guy with a fondness for playing fairy godfather. I think he bought Christian his apartment, and I know he replaced Abby’s car when her hearse died. He lived in New York for a while and tried to make it on Broadway, threw in the towel came back here and talked himself into the job at maverick. I think he genuinely likes Reid, and he threatened to completely ruin Derek if he ever hurts Christian but approves of their relationship.”
Prentiss reaches for another brownie. “And what have you turned up on Christian, god of mixed drinks?”
Garcia fiddles with the straw in her drink. “I haven't.”
“Really? Why not?” Prentiss asks.
“I mean, there's stuff I’ve found, yes. The morning after they hooked up, Derek had me look his band up online, but I didn't run a complete search for him. He's Derek’s boyfriend. I’m not going to do that,” Garcia says.
Prentiss nods. “Tell me about the band?”
Garcia digs her mini notebook out of her bag and latches onto Travis and Kyle's wireless with very little effort, bringing up Belfry's site. “Vaguely Celtic inspired, all four of them are smoking hot, and they're getting ready to start a tour.”
“Huh.” Prentiss leans forward to look. “Is it me or does the drummer look a tiny bit like Morgan?”
Garcia laughs. “I was thinking a little more Taye Diggs than Morgan, but yeah.”
“Mm. I like,” Prentiss says with a nod.
“I saw him first,” Garcia warns her.
Prentiss laughs. “Have you even met him?”
“Actually, yeah. Two years ago, two and a half maybe, they were playing that hole in the wall bar down the street from Derek and we went with Elle. It was right before... huh. That was right before they went to Jamaica,” Garcia says, remembering.
“Way before my time.” Prentiss says. “How good are they?”
“Oh, they're really good,” Garcia says. She clicks on one of the tracks available for online listening.
Prentiss listens, eyebrows going up. “Wow. Just wow.”
Garcia nods. “And that's just Jared and Christian, after Derek kept Christian up all night before the radio interview.”
“They playing around here any time soon?” Prentiss asks.
“I don't know. All the tour page says is coming soon,” Garcia says.
“We’ll hope for soon,” Prentiss says. “So what do we think of Derek and Christian together?” she asks, finally bringing the subject around to the reason she sat down with Garcia.
Garcia hesitates, making one face and then another. “I don't know. They're very pretty together,” she says finally.
“What’s the hesitation?” Prentiss asks.
“You have to ask?” Garcia asks in return.
Prentiss nods. “Yeah, I do.”
Garcia sighs. “Have you ever heard Derek mention the same woman or man twice?”
“Normally he doesn't even mention them,” Prentiss points out.
“Okay, maybe not to you. This is the longest I’ve seen him with anybody ever. Derek and long term relationship? Not words anyone, anywhere has ever used in the same sentence unless the verb is avoids,” Garcia says.
“And Christian’s a nice guy. He's got a few skeletons in his closet, but don't we all?” Prentiss asks.
“Around here, it's usually literal,” Garcia says with a snort.
“Don’t remind me of Ohio,” Prentiss says with a wince.
“I was thinking Florida, but those was entire bodies,” Garcia says.
“Minus a few parts here and there,” Prentiss agrees, wrinkling her nose.
Garcia shivers and reaches for another brownie. “Never need to see that again. Ever.”
“No,” Prentiss says, taking a cookie.
***
“Are we going dancing?” David asks, looking at the ladies. He’s not quite sure how he ended up surrounded by women, but whatever, going out dancing sounds like fun.
“Ofcourse we are, cutie,” Garcia says. “Where else would we find you a boy for the evening?”
“I don't need a boy for the evening when I’m surrounded by such lovely women,” David says with a grin.
Garcia laughs. “That’s sweet but you're too cute to go home alone, and I think you're about as interested in women as I am in fly fishing.”
“Probably less,” David says, considering it.
“Don’t underestimate my complete and total disinterest in fly-fishing,” Garcia tells him.
David holds up his hands. “I admire women. I respect them. I think if I ever got into bed with one it'd be a disaster on the magnitude of Pompeii.”
“Exactly my feeling about fishing,” Garcia says, smiling up at him. “Now, we've settled that. We'll find you a boy, me a someone and Emily and JJ a cab.”
“Yes ma'am,” David says, smiling back. “Where would you like to go?”
***
Derek watches them leave, a smile on his face as he wraps his arms around Christian. "Looks like our friends are getting along. Maybe a little too well," he says.
"What do you mean?" Christian asks, leaning back against him and turning to kiss his cheek.
"You really have to see it for yourself, but Travis has Reid up in the hot tub," Derek says. "I think he's, ah, trying to talk him into a threesome with him and Kyle."
Christian's eyebrows go up so fast that Derek's a little worried they'll shoot right off of his face. "But-how-they---" He turns to face Derek. "Huh."
"Exactly," Derek says. "I can't get my head around it, either, and I kinda don't want to. The two skinniest men I've ever met and the body builder."
"We need to go see this," Christian decides, taking Derek's hand and pulling him toward the stairs.
"As long as we get to go home afterward," Derek says.
***
The phone rings at waythefucktooearly the day after the party and Christian slits an eye open, glaring balefully at it. "Go 'way," he mumbles, reaching out to grab the little device. It takes him two tries to open it and he yawns, tucking it between his ear and the bed. "Travis, what d'you want?"
"First of all, don't be grumpy at me, it's already after eleven," Travis says. "I called to see how you thought the party went, darling. I heard from David this morning that while he didn't get laid last night, he did have a lovely time out dancing with the ladies."
"David never gets laid these days unless the guy's an arse," Christian says. "He's taking a page from my dating book or something."
"Which means that Mr. Right is just around the corner, and then he'll be blissfully happy," Travis says. "Did you get a chance to talk to Spencer much?"
"No," Christian says, yawning again. "You monopolized his time and I had a house full of other people to talk to. What do you want to know about him? You know what, hold on." He rolls over and pokes Derek. "Phone for you," he says, holding it out.
Derek pokes Christian back, opening one eye. "No one I know calls before noon on Saturday unless bodies are involved," he says, or something sort of like it, punctuated by yawns as he takes the phone. "Carol?"
"Lord, I hope not," Travis says. "It's already after eleven, darling. The party didn't end that late."
"Your party didn't end that late," Derek says, rolling toward Christian to drape one arm around his waist.
Travis laughs. "Not for lack of trying," he says. "I thought you'd like to know that we've decided to keep both you and your teammates around. And now I need to know what you can tell me about the darling Spencer Reid."
"Oh, God," Derek groans, leaning his head against Christian's shoulder. "What do you want to know? Why?"
"I want to know everything, honey," Travis says. "I'll settle for what's not classified. Favorite ice cream flavor, movie, all that sort of thing. I couldn't talk him into staying over with me and Daddy last night but I have hopes for the future."
"I didn't hear that," Derek says. "I did not hear that. This is all a really bizarre dream and I did not hear that."
Travis sighs. "You are hopeless," he says. "I'll have to hit up Garcia for information, since you're being grumpy about it. Shall I let you go back to sleep now, honey?"
"You call my baby girl before three and she'll turn your computer into a very expensive paper weight," Derek says. "I'll tell you, just... leave out the part where you're trying to, ah, 'have hopes for the future.'"
"Pretend you never heard it," Travis says. "But if I were to want to develop a relationship with Spencer, how would I go about doing it?"
Derek mutes the phone, half laughing and half whimpering, wholly disturbed and dying to call Garcia except for the part where he likes his computer functional. "Probably not by asking me that question," he says when he turns the phone back. "Coffee, books, academic lectures if you can keep up with the conversation afterward. Museums, he likes modern art but pretends he doesn't. Classical music, classical poetry, remember he's smarter than anyone else you'll probably ever meet and had a PhD before he could buy alcohol, but don't treat him like it. He already knows he's the smartest person in the room, you remind him and he'll hide behind it. Don't expect him to know pop culture unless it's Star Trek. Never tell him I profiled him for you and never tell me if you see him naked."
"Perfect," Travis says. "Thank you ever so much, darling. I have to call him next, we're having coffee later today. Will he be grumpy if I call before noon?"
"He's been up since eight," Derek says. "And, Travis, one more thing."
"Yes?" Travis asks.
"The kid's made of steel," Derek says. "Bends under pressure but he doesn't break. Don't underestimate him."
"I won't," Travis says simply. "One last thing for you before I let you go back to snuggling, darling."
"Yes, dear?" Derek says, mildly afraid of what Travis might come up with.
"Christian gets to keep you," Travis says. "You won an unqualified approval from his nearest and dearest last night. Lovely job. Lovely talking to you, darling."
"Yeah, you, too," Derek says, smiling as he turns off the phone. "Good news, Christian."
"What's that?" Christian mumbles. "Can we go back to sleep now?"
"You get to keep me," Derek says, leaning over him to put his phone back on the nightstand. "I, quote, won an unqualified approval, end quote, from your friends. Now, you can go back to sleep."
"Was going to keep you whether they approved or not," Christian says, snuggling into Derek. "But that's--bugger me." He flops on his back and sighs as Derek's phone rings. "Don't answer it."
"We'll get to the buggering later," Derek says with a laugh, stretching over Christian again to grab his own phone. He looks at the display and groans. "Spencer, it's early."
"It's almost noon," Spencer protests. "Early, when talking about---"
"I don't care," Derek says, cutting him off. "If you statistic me now, I will tell Garcia you write sonnets about her."
"Oh, that's just mean," Spencer says. "I wasn't calling to talk to you anyway. I was hoping to talk to Christian. I... have some things to ask him. About a friend of his."
"Travis. I know," Derek says, poking Christian. "He's all yours."
"Ow," Christian protests. "That wasn't very nice." He takes the phone. "I feel like I'm in a bad sitcom. What do you want to know about Travis, honey?"
"What does he do?" Spencer asks. "I mean, what does he like to do? I know he shops and spoils people and, apparently, buys books, but I'm having coffee with him and, well, what do we do after?"
"Let him buy you things," Christian says, stifling a yawn. "Either that, or go to a museum, or a show. He's not a huge movie fan but he adores live theater--he used to be a dancer. He likes wandering around the city randomly to people watch and stuff. Just don't let him get more than an hour away from a cup of coffee or he gets really, really bitchy."
"Right. Okay. I can---I can do that," Spencer says. "Okay. Thank you."
"I'm serious about letting him buy you stuff," Christian says, snuggling back against Derek. "With Travis, spending money equals a show of affection. If he offers you an apartment, he loves you."
"Well, I don't... need an apartment. I'll keep the rest in mind, though," Spencer says. "Last night was fun. You really like Derek, and that's good. He needs somebody who---it's none of my business, really, but you both kind of light up around each other. That's what Hotch said and he's not wrong. So, thanks and tell Derek I'm sorry for waking him up."
"You didn't," Christian says. "We were sort of awake anyway. I'll pass on the message. Have good coffee, honey." He closes the phone, drops it next to his, and rolls over to face Derek. "Your boss says we light up around each other," he says around a yawn. "Are we Christmas decorations?"
"You're weird and literal," Derek says, tucking his head against Christian's shoulder. "Sleep before Mimi realizes it's----" A loud meow and a paw against his neck puts that to end. "I love you, Christian, and I'm going to feed the cat but if your mother calls, I'm not here."
"If Mum calls, I'm not here," Christian says. "Love you too. Thank you for feeding the cat." He closes his eyes and pulls the pillow over his head.
Derek rolls over and finds himself face to face with Mimi, wearing a little cat smirk just before she bats his nose with her paw. He grins and decides to take it as approval.
Now with added second installment, For a Cup of Coffee at DW.