Chapter Text
Rule #1
His skin isn’t as thick he pretends it is. Be there when he can’t protect himself.
Reid sees it whenever they work a case in the deep South. Whenever they walk into the police station of the redneck, God-fearing, a little-more-than-mildly racist town in the middle of Georgia or Alabama or Mississippi, and the cops there look at Morgan with a strange expression on their face.
Reid knows that sometimes, Morgan would rather die than to ask for help. He would rather sit in silence and take the abuse, the whispered slurs behind his back because he knows that he is ten times the cop those other guys are, and he proves it by being right every damn time. He proves it by finding the patterns that the locals overlooked, by walking the unsub into the police station looking every cop who talked behind his back dead in the eye as he leads the unsub to the interrogation room and pries every last detail out of him.
But there’s times where he can’t really take it anymore.
Times like the rural town, nestled somewhere in South Carolina, where the unsub targeted black men from ages eighteen to thirty three, and no one could find the connection between them, until they interviewed the best friend of the most recent victim who wasn’t the best friend, but the boyfriend. It was almost easy after that, tracing the path back to a gay support group for those of color and finding the man whose internalized homophobia motivated his kills.
They bring the unsub in, still leering and spouting about how anyone who isn’t straight, white, and Catholic deserves to rot in hell. And Reid doesn’t think much of it until he notices some of the cops around him nodding slightly, even whispering. Morgan’s right next to him, and he knows that he hears it too, but he doesn’t do anything about it because he is controlled.
Well, he doesn’t do anything about it until a cop stage-whispers to another, “Fancy that, we get justice for faggot nig-” and Morgan jerks around, his eyes filled with anger and a deep, deep sadness that makes Reid
ache.
He looks ready to say something, but Rossi beats him to the punch.
“Say that again,” Rossi says, voice dripping with venom. “I dare you.”
The rest of the team stops and looks back at the cop, all of them glaring. If looks could kill, Reid thinks, he would be riddled with bullets. The cop falls silent, turning a bright scarlet.
Morgan punches the wall on the way out. Hotch doesn’t say anything.
Nothing seems too wrong until the team gets back to the jet. Everyone’s in their respective seats when the plane lifts off, Morgan immediately putting his headphones on. Reid picks up a book, but glances up every few pages to check on Morgan.
It’s on page 237, line 16, word 8 ( three) , where he sees the signs of Morgan beginning to break. Morgan’s hands begin to shake slightly where he is clenching them in his lap, and he’s gazing out the window, eyes looking distant.
He puts the book down and slips into the seat next to Morgan, placing a gentle hand on his thigh. Morgan glances back at Reid, smiles slightly, his eyes watery. He drops his head onto Reid’s shoulder.
“I fucking hate people, sometimes,” Morgan whispers, and Reid takes a quick look around before placing a kiss on the top of Morgan’s head and feels him relax.
Rule #2
He loves you. Even if you can’t tell sometimes, he loves you.
“Did you mean it?” Reid asks quietly, tracing circles on Morgan’s abs back in his apartment.
Morgan closes a hand over Reid’s, entangling their fingers on his stomach. “Mean what, pretty boy?”
“What you told William.”
Morgan shifts slightly, throws a leg over Reids, and lies on his side. Starts stroking his thumb over the back of Reid’s hand. “I told William a lot of things, baby, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”
He’s like this after sex, Reid muses to himself, gazing at their joined hands. Calls me pet names.
“Lose you to that brain of yours?” Morgan teases, breaking Reid out of his reverie.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“No, baby boy it’s okay. Tell me what you meant, though.”
“Did you mean it when you told him you had absolutely no idea what it’s like to be in love with another man?”
Morgan’s thumb stills, then he moves quicker than Reid can comprehend. He’s on his elbows and knees on top of Reid, their faces barely two inches away.
“Pretty boy, I am more in love with you than I thought was possible. I lied. I lie to unsubs all the time. I’m sorry I had to say that, but you gotta know I don’t mean it.”
“I know,” Reid whispers, and he sees the flash of Morgan’s grin before he drops on top of Reid, who lets out a quiet oof.
“Love you, pretty boy,” Morgan mumbles into Reid’s collarbone, and Reid smiles.
Rule #3
When your hands are wandering down his sides, check in with him. Sometimes he gets stuck in the past.
“ Fuck, Derek,” Reid gasps when Morgan’s mouth closes over a spot just above his collarbone. Morgan chuckles and bites harder.
Reid flips them around so that Morgan’s the one pressed against the wall, and kisses a spot below Morgan’s jaw. He makes his way down Morgan’s throat and places his hand on top of Morgan’s crotch.
That’s when he notices the shift.
Morgan is less pliant, more stiff in the way he responds to Reid’s touches. His smile seems to be forced, and there’s an air of unease around him.
Reid pulls off. “Derek.”
“Yeah,” Morgan says, his palms flat against the wall. “Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just-” Morgan chews on his lip. “I just kinda want a break.”
“Okay,” Reid says, “you want anything?”
Morgan brings his thumb up to his mouth and picks at the skin around his nail. “Water?”
Reid smiles and nods, quickly filling up a cup of water at the sink. He brings it back to Morgan who had since sat down on the bed.
“Can I touch you?” Reid asks quietly, and Morgan looks up at him.
“In like a second,” Morgan says, finishing the water and placing the cup on the nightstand. “I just…”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Reid says. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I know what happened with - with him.”
Morgan smiles gratefully at Reid’s avoidance of the name, and nods. “You can touch me.”
Reid sits next to Morgan and wraps his arm around his shoulders, squeezing gently. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. I’m not about to have a panic attack or anything, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
“I’m concerned about how you’re feeling.”
Morgan looks back at Reid and shuffles closer to him. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? This?” Reid scoffs. “Don’t be stupid, it doesn’t fit you.”
Morgan laughs at that. “I’m not being stupid. Most people I’ve been with in the past - guys and girls - they don’t care. They get upset.”
“I’m not upset. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
Morgan grins. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Rule #4
He will solve everyone else’s problems before he even considers his own. Make sure he doesn’t collapse under the weight of his memories.
Reid has watched, time and time again, as Morgan sits in front of whichever team member the case got to. Whichever team member’s heart was shattered by whatever events transpired. Whichever team member identified too much with the victim or the family or even the unsub. Watched as Morgan calmly asked them what was wrong, listened to the precursor to their heartache before they told him what was on their mind. Watched him reach out to grasp their hands or offer advice or even just sit there and listen.
No one ever did it for Morgan, though.
Reid’s watched Morgan on the cases where Morgan fit the victimology just right. Where the father was killed, and there was a single mother who had to raise three kids by herself while mourning. Where the unsub was just a kid who was targeted too much, too often, by too many people.
Sometimes it gets to Morgan, but you wouldn’t see it unless you were looking for it. (Reid was looking for it.)
Reid knows better than to bring it up on the plane. He waited until they were at his or Morgan’s apartment (because that’s what they did after tough cases, spent the night together, took comfort in each other’s company).
“What can I do?” he asks quietly, reaching a hand out to grab Morgan’s arm.
Sometimes that’s what does it. Sometimes Morgan will let out a strangled, sob-like noise before falling against Reid who gently lowers them to the floor, and Morgan will sit there and cry into Reid’s shoulder.
Other times Morgan will shrug and head into the shower. Reid counts five minutes before walking into the bathroom behind him. He’ll find Morgan standing against the wall of the shower, eyes unfocused. He’ll slip in behind Morgan and hold him tightly, waiting for Morgan to whisper “I’m fine, pretty boy.”
And at the worst times, Morgan won’t respond. He’ll walk into the bedroom and sit on the bed and look at the wall like it holds the answers to all of life’s mysteries. Stares at it like it’ll tell him why the eight year old girl was raped and murdered. Reid follows him in and slowly helps Morgan undress and get into bed. He’ll cover Morgan in every blanket they own and lay next to him, holding him as close as possible.
It’s one of those times where Morgan sighs, turns around in Reid’s embrace to face him and whispers, “You don- you shouldn’t need to take care of me.”
To which Reid only replies, “I want to.”
Rule #5
Sometimes he won’t believe it when you say you love him. Try not to let it show how much it breaks your heart that he doesn’t think he can be loved. Remind him that he isn’t his past.
“I love you.”
Morgan freezes, and Reid immediately panics. Is it too soon? It’s been several months, he thought it was okay to say it now, but maybe Morgan didn’t feel the same.
Morgan opens his mouth, and Reid braces himself for rejection.
What he doesn’t expect is the quiet, broken “ How?” that comes out of Morgan’s mouth.
Reid stares. “What do you mean?”
“H-how can you love me,” Morgan asks, his voice cracking slightly. “It’s me. I’m broken beyond belief, I can barely get through four days without having a nightmare about something or the other -”
“Derek,” Reid sighs, his hand coming up to cup Morgan’s cheek. “You’re not broken.”
“Yes, I am,” Derek says, tearing himself away from Reid, and, as much as it hurts Reid to hear this, he knows this is a conversation they needed to have. “Reid, Spencer, I’m so broken inside, I don’t know why I’m still alive, I don’t know how I’m still alive -”
“Sometimes, I don’t know how you’re alive either,” Reid says gently, catching Morgan’s arm. “Even when the odds are astronomically stacked against you, you still go into the building, or you confront the unsub, or whatever other crazy shit you pull -”
“Is this the part where you yell at me for having a death wish?”
“No,” Reid says emphatically. “It’s the part where I say that you’re the bravest man I’ve ever met, and, forgive me for saying this despite having no semblance of a theistic upbringing, God knows how much I hate watching you run into danger like you’re the last person to matter, but Derek, you mean everything to me.”
Morgan stands still for a moment and wets his lips. He looks at Reid, looks away, and looks back to him.
“I love you, too.”
Rule #6
If you wear his shirt, you will get fucked.
It was careless, honestly. Or maybe that’s what Reid tried to tell himself.
It’s their day off, and he had spent the night at Morgan’s house. And sure, he already had a good fifth of his closet neatly stuffed into a drawer in Morgan’s dresser, but Morgan’s shirts were so comfortable.
Which is how Morgan found Reid curled up on the couch with a book he probably pulled out of his ass ( seriously, how does the kid always have at least three books on him at all times? ) in boxer briefs and one of Morgan’s hoodies that was so large on Reid that he had to roll up the sleeves twice in order to get his hands out of them.
And somehow, it’s simultaneously the hottest and most adorable thing Morgan has ever seen.
“Hey, pretty boy,” Morgan says, in a voice that has Reid blushing from head to toe.
“Hey,” Reid whispers as Morgan crosses the distance to sit next to him. He throws a leg over Reid’s lap and pushes himself to straddle Reid.
“What you doin’?” Morgan whispers, right next to Reid’s ear, who whimpers slightly as the hot air hits his skin.
“N-nothing, fuck ,” Reid whispers when Morgan bites the skin just below his jaw. “Is it the hoodie ?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus, you fuck you absolute fucking alpha male,” Reid laughs as Morgan stands up and pulls him to his feet.
“Bedroom,” Morgan says, pushing Reid in the direction of his room. “Then we’ll talk.”