A/N: This is the first time I've attempted to write one of Reid's diatribes; let me know if it feels authentic to you . . . if you don't just skip over it.

BTW, I have no legal or ownership rights to Criminal Minds or its characters.

Kiss Me, I'm Irish

"Morgan, where did you get that shirt?"

"I brought it with me," Morgan replied defiantly. "There was a very good chance we were going to be in Boston for St. Patrick's Day and I wanted to be prepared."

A random girl stopped and kissed Morgan on the cheek, leaving behind a cocktail napkin with her name and number. "Never mind. Now that I think about it, you owning that shirt makes perfect sense," Reid stated, his voice full of disdain for the 'Kiss Me, I'm Irish' shirt his co-worker had worn to the pub.

"What? I'm Irish. You've met my mum; she's got the red hair, the freckles."

"But why should anyone kiss you for that?"

Morgan shook his head in disbelief. "Reid, my man, who cares why?"

"It just doesn't make any sense. Did you know that St. Patrick wasn't even Irish? He was actually born in Britain into a wealthy family; at age sixteen he was kidnapped by Irish raiders who attacked his family's estate and taken to Ireland as a slave. He escaped slavery but eventually returned to Ireland and is credited with bringing Christianity to the Irish. He claimed that he heard the voice of God, in a dream, and that God told him to leave Ireland. He walked almost 200 miles of Irish coast in order to escape to his native Britain. He dreamt of an angel that told him to return to Ireland as a missionary, so he began religious training and once he was ordained he returned to Ireland. One of the most popular legends regarding St. Patrick is that he used the Shamrock, a form of clover native to Ireland identifiable by its three leaves in one, in order to teach the concept of the Holy Trinity, or the idea of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. It's estimated that within 200 years of his arrival in Ireland the entire country had been converted to Christianity. He was purportedly successful in converting the Irish people because he took their Pagan traditions and wove them into Christianity. For example, what most people know today as the Celtic cross is actually the Pagan symbol for the sun superimposed on the traditional Christian cross. Allegedly, St. Patrick died on March 17, 461, which is why we celebrate St. Patrick's Day on March 17th. He is the patron saint and national apostle of Ireland and has been celebrated for over eleven centuries. St. Patrick is also credited with driving all snakes from Ireland. It's now known that there never were snakes native to Ireland and it is widely believed that the banishing of the snakes was a metaphor for the eradication of Pagan ideology in Ireland and the triumph of Christianity, as snakes represented evil.

Interestingly, the first parade celebration was not held in Ireland, but in New York City in 1762, by Irish-British soldiers. The first celebration in the United States, then the British colonies, was in 1737 in Boston. New York is also the birth place of the 'traditional' meal of corned beef and cabbage. In actuality, the true tradition was bacon and cabbage but Irish immigrants living on the Lower East Side of New York City near the turn of the 20th century could not afford bacon and substituted corned beef. New York City and Boston host the two largest St. Patrick's Day parades each year. Approximately 36.9 million U.S. residents claim Irish roots. Approximately 12% of the residents of any given state are of Irish ancestry, except for the residents of Massachusetts, of which approximately 24% are of Irish ancestry."

"Was there a point to that diatribe?" asked Hotch.

"Is there ever?" Rossi muttered under his breath.

Reid stood there thinking for a moment, trying to remember what had set him off. "Yes, actually, I don't understand what kissing has to do with St. Patrick's Day."

"Does it matter?" replied Rossi, wearing an 'Irishman for a Day' t-shirt.

"That's what I said!" Morgan exclaimed as he and Rossi clunked their mugs of Guinness together.

Reid rolled his eyes. "I give up!" In actuality, he didn't care about the cultural relevance of Derek's t-shirt; he just couldn't stand to watch random women kissing him.

JJ and Prentiss returned with shots of whiskey. The women wore matching shirts that read 'Irish Princess.' Reid's shirt had an Irish flag across the chest, which he believed to be an appropriate expression of Irish pride. Hotch simply wore a t-shirt that said 'Irish' and the second 'i' was 'dotted' with a shamrock. Reid was fairly certain that half the team wasn't Irish at all, but they were in Boston and had just finished a case and felt that they ought to dress festively if they were going to go to a pub and join in the celebration. The team had thwarted a terrorist attack on the day's parade, and Hotch felt they had earned the afternoon off. They could fly back to Quantico Sunday morning.

They drank Guinness, shot whiskey, and ate corned beef on rye for dinner. Hotch, JJ and Rossi were first to leave. Hotch and JJ wanted to call their children before bedtime and Rossi just wasn't as young as he used to be. A few hours and several drinks later Emily was leading her two stumbling colleagues back to their hotel, as they leaned on one another for support. Reid was inebriated because the Morgan was kissed the more he drank. Morgan . . . was Irish. The younger agent was wearing the elder's leather jacket, which Emily found quite surprising because Morgan never let anyone wear that jacket. She did not find it surprising, however, that Reid was the exception to this rule.

Suddenly Reid stopped causing Morgan to trip and almost fall. The infamous t-shirt had been weighing on his mind. As he grabbed onto Morgan to keep him from falling, they turned and faced each other. Before he could chicken out, Reid leaned in and kissed his best friend. As they pulled away, surprise was written all over Morgan's face.

"Your shirt . . ." Reid mumbled looking at the ground, his liquid courage quickly evaporating. Morgan lifted his chin and kissed him, this kiss deeper and more sensuous. Prentiss realized that she no longer heard her bumbling, laughing teammates and turned around. Half a block away she saw the two making out in the middle of the sidewalk.

Good for you Reid. She reluctantly walked back to them; she had to make sure they made it back to the hotel. She was about a foot away when she cleared her throat . . . and then she did it again. The second time, Morgan and Reid jumped apart looking fairly embarrassed.

"C'mon you two. We're only a block and a half from the hotel. You can pick up where you left off in your room." Reid blushed fiercely at the implication.

Somehow, the two men had sobered considerably during that short walk. Morgan closed the door to their room, double checking that it was locked per usual. Reid kicked off his shoes and flopped back on his bed, covering his eyes with his forearm. He had never done anything so brazen in his entire life. He wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but he knew that would be a lie. The simple truth was that he had feelings for Morgan; he had discovered this over a year ago when he realized that seeing Morgan dancing with anonymous women made him nauseous. Even though Morgan had returned the kiss, he doubted that Morgan and he wanted the same things. Reid wanted a relationship, he wanted monogamy, he wanted long-term. He couldn't remember Morgan ever being in a long-term relationship and he knew he couldn't bear to be a one night stand.

Morgan stood, watching a motionless Reid, wondering what he was thinking. He knew they couldn't blame 'it' on the alcohol; they were inebriated but not drunk. Recently he had been grappling with the fact that he might have more than friendly feelings for his best friend, but when Reid kissed him it knocked all the air out of him. And then he had kissed him back and his whole world was suddenly in a tailspin. He scratched the back of his bald head and sat on edge of Reid's bed.

"It looks good on you." Reid lifted his arm from his face to look at Morgan. "My jacket, I mean."

"It's too big," he replied, sitting up, moving to take it off. Morgan stopped him.

"Okay then, maybe I just like seeing you in it." Reid blushed and broke eye contact, looking downward. "So," Morgan continued, "what do you say we just acknowledge the elephant in the room? I admit I wanted to kiss you, you admit you wanted to kiss me, it's that simple."

"But it's not," Reid said softly.

"What? You don't believe that I wanted to kiss you? Why do you think I wore this damn t-shirt?" Morgan joked, wanting to lighten the mood.

"I believe you wanted to kiss me, and I wanted to kiss you. But I want more, a lot more, and maybe you don't."

"Well instead of breaking up with me before we even get together, why don't you tell me what you want?"

Reid sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I want a relationship; a monogamous, long-term relationship."

Morgan stroked his cheek. "Pretty boy, why would you assume I don't want that?"

Reid just raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'you're kidding, right?'

Morgan smiled. "You're special; you're different. You're the first person I've ever wanted to have a relationship with. It's not that I couldn't or wouldn't in the past, I just never felt this way about anyone else. Will I screw up? I can pretty much guarantee it, but I'm willing to try. You're my best friend and I can't imagine living even one day of my life without you."

"I'm willing to try too, but one more condition . . ." he paused for dramatic effect, "this relationship has to include lots and lots of sex." Morgan's eyes opened wide with surprise; he couldn't believe those words had just come out of Reid's mouth. "Is that a problem?" Reid asked, even though he knew the real reason Morgan was speechless.

"N-no, I've just never heard you talk like that."

"Despite what everyone on the team thinks, I'm not the blushing virgin Spencer. I've had sex and I can talk about in appropriate settings."

"Wait, you're not a virgin?"

"Morgan!" exclaimed Reid as he gave his shoulder a playful shove, "I'm thirty years old! I know I'm socially awkward but give me a little credit!"

The older agent chuckled. "I'm sorry baby. I guess I just don't want to consider you having been with someone else."

"I have to handle you having been with lots of someone elses," Reid retorted.

Morgan held his hands up. "Fair enough, fair enough."

"We're getting off track," Reid reminded him. "We were talking about us having lots and lots of sex together."

"Trust me, I didn't forget," Morgan informed him, nudging him slightly so that he could lay on top of the bed with him. He propped his head up on one elbow. "When exactly do we start having all this sex?"

"I was thinking as soon as possible," Reid said, sounding exasperated.

"Okay, okay! I didn't want to assume, seeing as we only agreed to be, whatever we are, boyfriends? Anyhow we only agreed on that like ten minutes ago; I didn't want to be presumptuous."

Reid smiled. "Boyfriends works," he said as he took Morgan's hand in his. "I know we only agree approximately ten minutes ago to be boyfriends, but I've known you for eight years, how much longer do you expect me to wait?"

"Not a second longer," Morgan smiled as he leaned in to kiss the younger agent.

When Morgan and Reid awoke the following morning their heads were pounding, their bodies were devoid of all clothing and intertwined.

"I don't wanna get up," whined Reid.

"C'mon pretty boy; it's a short flight, and then we can go home . . ."

Reid sighed and stood up failing to hide his grimace from Morgan.

"I'm sorry baby. Are you real sore?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"No, just a little bit. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Morgan said as he climbed out of bed and walked over to Reid. He pulled the young man close, kissing him softly. "I just want you to know that last night was incredible in my opinion."

"Yeah, it was kind of amazing," Reid replied teasingly, kissing his boyfriend once more. Eventually they showered and packed their things. As they were about to leave the room Reid held out Morgan's leather jacket with the intention of returning it to him.

"You wear it; I like seeing you in it," he said, his thoughts drifting to the night before when Reid wore only his jacket as Morgan fucked him against the wall. A blushing Reid gave him a knowing smile and slipped into the jacket.

"Sooo, is there any point in trying to hide this?"

"I doubt it. Prentiss saw us making out last night. I'm sure when she got back to her room last night she told JJ. I would suspect that they also told Penelope, but she isn't blowing up my phone, so maybe not."

"And Prentiss will tell Hotch, probably before they're even home."

"Yeah- wait what?"

"Prentiss and Hotch, since she came back from the dead."

Morgan took Reid's hand in his as they headed to the front desk to turn in their keys. "Why didn't I know that? How did you know that?"

"I don't know why you didn't know. I knew because JJ told me."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"JJ swore me to secrecy!" Morgan cocked an eyebrow at him and he held his hands up. "It'll never happen again, I swear!" Morgan threw an arm over his shoulders as he had done many times before, but this time he pulled Reid in close for a kiss.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Rossi inquired, causing the agents to reluctantly break apart their lips.

"I know you're getting up there Rossi, but I would think you could still recognize that this is," Morgan taunted.

Rossi put his hands on his hips, waiting for an answer.

"We're together. Emily saw us making out last night so we figured there wasn't much of a point in trying to hide it," Reid stated matter-of-factly.

"Good for you Reid," Rossi remarked before strolling over to the front desk to check out. Morgan and Reid shrugged their shoulders at one another and headed out to the waiting SUV.

"Pretty boy, you know how I said that after the flight we could go home?"

"Yeah. It was only thirty-two minutes and forty-six seconds ago."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "You know I meant that we would be going home together, right?"

"Well it wouldn't have been much of an incentive otherwise, would it?" Morgan chuckled and shook his head. "One condition though," Reid continued.

"And what is that?" inquired Morgan.

"You never wear that t-shirt in public again," he replied.

"No worries. I'm pretty sure it's ready for retirement."