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Title: none
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Warnings: none really, unless language offends you that much. and, as usual, this is hugely unbeta-ed, and tremendously fragmentary.
Notes:  for [livejournal.com profile] luckinfovely , who requested:
1. Reid cheating
2. Morgan and Reid's biggest fight.

...I'm not sure this succeeds in fulfilling either of those.  here's hoping.

There are a million ways this could have ended (though, if he's honest with himself, he never saw an end, never wanted an end, never looked anywhere at anything ever except--).

A million ways.

But somehow, this moment is where it all comes crashing to a halt.  This hits Morgan like a blow to the chest--and it is the end.  That, he knows, with a cold and leaden certainty, before he's even turned back to the door.  Before the door closes and Reid doesn't call his name.

He's numb all the way to his car.

And then he punches the door.

And then he has to drive home, eyes burning, throat tight, knuckles throbbing and splitting and bleeding.


.


He isn't drunk when Reid comes home (comes back? Just comes to the apartment--because god knows this isn't their home anymore).  He's bitter and woozy and tired, but not drunk--if only because the beer tasted flat and stale when he tried to suck it down.

Reid enters the kitchen and Morgan looks up and doesn't bother at all to conceal his glare.

"Get what you need"--and, Christ, he sounds hoarse, even to himself--"and get out."

"Morgan--"

"Don't."

Reid has the gall to look hurt.  And the decency to look ashamed.  And all Morgan can really see is already two hours past: a hand in Reid's hair and a mouth marking Reid's jaw and the press of hips against hips, Reid leaning into (welcoming, loving, wanting) the touch of a man that isn't Morgan.  There's a funny ringing sound in Morgan's ears and a churning in his stomach and his hand still smarts in red-webbed bursts while he feels the world unravel around him.

"I thought you knew," Reid whispers, breaking the silence.

"You--what?"

Reid gestures shapelessly and looks away.  "It's been months."  He rakes a hand through his hair.  "We've been over for months."

Morgan can't help but sneer.  "Well, I guess we've been looking at things a little differently because this is all news to me, kiddo."

The look Reid gives him is nothing short of vicious.  "You had enough sense to follow me to a bar though."  His lip curls.  "But you were totally clueless.  Right."

"So why not just tell me?  If we were so obviously over, why couldn't you just be man enough to say it?"  He makes a sound, rough and barking.  A mockery of a laugh.  "Easier to do it this way, right?  Let me be the bad guy driving you away."

"Fuck you."

Morgan's mouth thins.  His jaw knots.  A tight, prickling, electric, red ball has hooked itself to his insides, somewhere between his lungs and his diaphragm.  Energy winds up between his joints, sucking inward with nowhere to go.  Pulling and pulling towards the boiling red knot.  And Reid glares (his gaze hot and black and baleful), still standing across the kitchen and somehow a million miles away and--

Oh, Morgan can feel the space between them fracture.

"Fuck you," Reid says again.  "I didn't want this.  I didn't do it just to hurt--"

Morgan reaches for the nearest solid object he can find.  The mug crashes through the window over the kitchen sink in a glittering shower of glass (an explosion of sound).

"Goddamnit Reid.  So what did you do?  Fuck him by accident?"

Injured dignity.  "You don't know that--"

"Man shut the fuck up.  Stop with the victim bullshit.  You could have not done anything at all.  You could have fucking talked to me--"

"I tried--"

"Like hell you did!"

Cool air rolls through the shattered window and Morgan slumps against the counter, gaze falling to his red-ruined knuckles. The weight of the blame (the effort of hurling it, the guilt of bearing it) drags him downward.  His hands twist into fists (spark spasms of pain), tendons popping.  Strong.  Hard.  Furious.

And useless.

"You're my whole world, kid."

But the damage is done (and isn't it funny, isn't it unfair, that knowing it doesn't make it hurt any less) and no amount of pretty words, no quiet admissions can fix what has suddenly frayed beyond repair.

"No I'm not, Morgan."

Morgan looks up.  Reid squares his shoulders.  His eyes are wide and bright.  He speaks quietly.

"You. You let me in sometimes. But--"

A choked halt.

A motion (a twisting, a reaching, a wrenching, unstoppable force).

And Reid is gone.

Date: 2009-08-20 11:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] luckinfovely.livejournal.com
oh my fucking god. you would post this while I'm in Chicago and can only reply by phone. fjhfhdhdhfu

this. is. glorious. better than anything I could have imagined. and I already had complete faith in your ficcing skillz.

I. LOVE.

best possible way to start the day.

expect more spam when I return to my laptop. omg.

glorious. for real.

<333

Date: 2009-08-20 11:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] luckinfovely.livejournal.com
oh Jesus.
also: THANK YOU. omgsomuch.
want a thank you Drabble once I'm done killing Morgan?

Date: 2009-08-21 03:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] luckinfovely.livejournal.com
AND I MEANT EVERY WORD.

also, i will squee at you in greater length once i've had some "sleep," i swear. AHAHASLEEPWHATISTHAT. but first!:

so what do you want?! *taptaptap*

Date: 2009-08-21 03:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] luckinfovely.livejournal.com
i'm awesome like that. won't lie. :D

THANK YOU, I THINK I WILL-

*dead*

Date: 2009-08-23 02:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] luckinfovely.livejournal.com
OH MY GOD. THAT'S EVIL. ikindadigit.

Also, let the record show that I received & read this comment while stopped at a red light. And I'm pretty sure that the guy next to me thought I was insane.

You just can't judge a girl by her maniacal laughter in traffic. I MEAN, REALLY.

Date: 2009-08-23 08:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] luckinfovely.livejournal.com
OHMYGOD. i'm just following the lead of the writers! it's so not MY FAULT that they're such whores for reid!torture. butyeahokidoenjoyit. a lot, really. it makes me a bad person. but i'm ok with that, mostly. i give things to goodwill. i donate money to charities. I HAVE HELPED TEACH ADULTS TO READ, ADOPTED ANIMALS, AND RESETTLED REFUGEES DAMNIT.

well. clearly i now have to write missionary!reid and doctor!without!borders!morgan meet in egypt and have a torrid affair, during which reid is captured as a political prisoner and morgan negotiates for his release by agreeing to sacrifice himself to, i dunno, a giant manbird or some shit. it's 4 a.m. my powers of sarcastic assfacery drop off sharply right about now. damn.

Date: 2009-08-22 08:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] luckinfovely.livejournal.com
I said I would return to spam, and it may have taken me forever, but HERE I AM.

Okay.

OKAY.

I loved this. No, really. LOVED. I loved what you did with the prompt, I loved the dialogue, the characters (who were SO themselves), and I really loved the way this was written. It was fragmented and brutal, just like Morgan's thoughts, and it was all PERFECT AND LOVELY.

And now, I snippet:

Before the door closes and Reid doesn't call his name.

OH, MY AND OW. Yeah, that is over. Damn.

He isn't drunk when Reid comes home (comes back? Just comes to the apartment--because god knows this isn't their home anymore).

I love that. That he's sober & SO HURT (sorry, Morgan, but really), and OMG THE HOME THING. The pain. I love it when he suffers. It makes me a horrible person, but I just DO. Not my fault he does it so well.

There's a funny ringing sound in Morgan's ears and a churning in his stomach and his hand still smarts in red-webbed bursts while he feels the world unravel around him.

You win at vivid imagery & lovely descriptiveness. For real.

Reid gestures shapelessly and looks away. "It's been months." He rakes a hand through his hair. "We've been over for months."

Which is so painfully Reid. AND THIS KINDA REMINDS ME OF SOMETHING I WAS WRITING, WHICH I WILL TRY TO FINISH WRITING SINCE THERE ISN'T AS MUCH OVERLAP THAT I'LL BE FLIPPING A SHIT OVER PLAGIARIZING YOU AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW. Morgan's been fucking Reid. Reid's kinda just... let him. There's a big fight.

"Well, I guess we've been looking at things a little differently because this is all news to me, kiddo."

Oh. Oh. He said KIDDO! It BURNS with hurting. OH GOD.

Also, I really love how Reid can flip a switch & turn vicious. Not just here necessarily -- not that I would characterize this as "vicious" per se == but in general. He can be so fucking MEAN.

Oh, damn. I WAS ALSO WRITING A THING WHEREIN REID "FUCK YOU"-ED AT MORGAN. THOUGH UNDER DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES INVOLVING DRUGS & THE DISCOVERY OF & MORGAN'S DETERMINATION TO SEND HIM SOMEPLACE BECAUSE HE CAN'T SAY NO TO REID BUT DOCTORS CAN. That, I think, I will flip a plagiarism shit over, though. Too similar. IGNORE ME. PAIN.

And Reid glares (his gaze hot and black and baleful), still standing across the kitchen and somehow a million miles away and--

You have. A lovely way. With language. Just so you know.

Oh, Morgan can feel the space between them fracture.

And your ability to use it to kick in my metaphorical teeth is just DAZZLING. I am dazzled. And metaphorically toothless. Or something.

"Goddamnit Reid. So what did you do? Fuck him by accident?"

SERIOUSLY, THOUGH! As if I couldn't fluff Morgan more. GOD.

Also, I really love how they're sticking to last names here. It helps show the distance just a little. (Although God knows I'd rather have Morgan call Reid the grossest, most sappy terms of endearment -- like, I dunno, "snugglebutt"? *gag* -- before "SPENCER," because I SO LOATHE THAT NAME. It does not AT ALL lend itself to being cried out in ANY fashion. Not even when ENRAGED.)

Cool air rolls through the shattered window and Morgan slumps against the counter, gaze falling to his red-ruined knuckles.

SERIOUSLY. WIN AT IMAGERY.

Date: 2009-08-22 08:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] luckinfovely.livejournal.com
"You're my whole world, kid."

Which is 1) SO Morgan; and 2) I suspect is at least 5% true, even in canon. Reid is the only team member I couldn't see Morgan surviving without being fucked up beyond repair. It would be all "I FAILED" and drinking and meaningless sex to keep his mind off things. More than usual, even. There's just something not entirely heterosexual about their love for each other. I mean, Morgan -- who has always struck me as somewhat homophobic (LIKE WITH THE "HOPE IT WAS A SHE" COMMENT IN THAT ONE EP, WHICH REALLY MADE ME LOATHE HIM JUST A LITTLE FOR A LONG, LONG TIME BECAUSE GOD SUCH.A.PRICK. -- calling Reid "pretty boy"? REALLY? And Reid's big googly cow eyes for Morgan & the way Morgan's just about the ONLY person who can touch him -- including ALMOST!STOMACH!PATTING -- without Reid being all "OMGHANDS!DON'TTOUCHMEGROSS." Seriously.

I need to write a crack!fic wherein vaguely!straight!Reid has a HIGHLY explicit sex dream about violently!straight!Morgan, and then can't look him in the eye for WEEKS. (Which would only drive Morgan crazy & make him follow Reid around that much more.) You know it happened. It DID.

Um. Anyway. Sorry.

But the damage is done (and isn't it funny, isn't it unfair, that knowing it doesn't make it hurt any less) and no amount of pretty words, no quiet admissions can fix what has suddenly frayed beyond repair.

This is. Actually? One of my favorite sentences in any M/R fic ever. Ever. Seriously.

EVER.

God.

And then THIS:

"You. You let me in sometimes. But--"

*weep & wail!* Because that's totally how it would happen.

In short, THAT WAS FUCKING BRUTAL AND GLORIOUS AND I LOVED IT. In a way that is not entirely wholesome, to be perfectly honest. My God.

You're good at this.

Date: 2009-08-23 02:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] luckinfovely.livejournal.com
you are my favorite person today. srsly.

....that? you should do that. and end it with a WE-DON'T-KNOW-WHAT-WE'RE-DOING sloppy!makeout moment in the coffee room, leaving them both embarrassed and confused and wanting more.

i'm, like, 98.89% convinced that your brain is the best thing ever.

I hypothesize that he's probably bisexual with a tendency towards women and that his sexual attraction for men is probably buried under his jock-star-ladies'-man persona and he's hella afraid to confront it.

see my above comment.

also, I CONCUR.

which is obviously why he'd end up sloppy-kissing Reid in the coffee room and then being all Morgan-style!angry about it later. I mean, duh.

HE SO WOULD. and reid would be all, "but what did i DO?!" and morgan would feel kinda bad, 'cause reid has that effect on people. which would piss morgan off because he's STRAIGHT GODDAMNIT. except... maybe not. (plus there was that one time in the locker room in high school, butthatdoesn'tcount.) and there would be many long, meaningful glances across the bullpen. and it's all just so very degrassi junior high, but with better hair, lots of dead bodies and, yanno, fewer shoulder pads and scrunchies.

Date: 2009-08-23 08:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] luckinfovely.livejournal.com
I really do think Morgan is not straight (even if his straightness is really only seriously in question when Reid's involved), and by virtue of all of his other personality traits (and due to his MAN'S MAN persona) he'd have to seriously deal with it at some point and it wouldn't be the easiest of processes.

and the abuse. like, how could he possibly be attracted to guys after what that dirty old bastard did to him? it's wrong. period. plus, he's a man! a manly man. men don't like men! they don't have boobs! *headdesk*

that reminds me of morgan's, "i have no idea what it's like to be in love with another man." which, um, yeah and WOW. that ENTIRE EPISODE was a testament to morgan & reid's whole we-love-each-other-like-brothers-(who-play-the-bad-touch-game-in-seekrit) thing. i mean, it was called "soul mates," for christ's sake. and the two bad guys? pretty much as close to a mirror version of morgan & reid as you could get. like morgan & reid if both of them had gone the OTHER direction. and the fact that morgan's all, "hey, if you two had just got it ON" maybe he wouldn't have to be killin' little girls. FUNNY YOU SHOULD SAY THAT, SMASHER OF HEADS, DESTROYER OF DOORS & TACKLER OF HUMANS.

also, i swear to GOD i expected them to end up making out on the roof in that one twilight kid's episode. AND REID'S GUN IN THAT SCENE COULD NOT HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN MORE PHALLIC. seriously.

plus, yanno, reid cries out for morgan in his sleep. while having a dream wherein he's tearing his shirt off becauseoftheleeches. it's canon.

obviously. there is more than just platonic and/or fraternal affection. lurking somewhere beneath the surface.

not that i think about this a lot or anything.

I just like making things hard for my favorite characters.

life is hard. why should it be any different for them just 'cause they're fictional? really.

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