Chapter 1: Perspective

Something told him not to do it. Something else told him he may not get another chance. Spencer Reid sat at his desk and fumbled over and over with the pencil in his hand. He let a sigh escape him and then he rubbed his eyes, not sure if he was trying to give up or if he was just distracting himself. He made a conscious effort to stop his foot and leg from shaking up and down.

"Hey, man," Morgan said from somewhere behind him. Reid's head spun around like his neck was made of rubber, but he didn't say anything in response. "What the hell are you still doin' here? Go home. Get some sleep."

Reid looked back to his desk and cleared his throat as he pursed his lips. "I can't," he replied, straightening his back and pulling himself closer to his desk.

Morgan shook his head. "Can't? Or won't? This only happens when you got somethin' on your mind." He paused to give Reid a moment to consider confessing before he had to ask, but Reid didn't offer anything up. "What's botherin' you, kid?" Morgan sat on the edge of the young man's desk and waited for him to answer.

Reid got nervous. He quickly realized he didn't want to have to explain himself in any way right now. "I ju-just mean I have some things to finish here."

"That's bullshit."

"No… I don't bullshit. I have a job to do," Reid frowned. A profiler never enjoyed being profiled. "And don't profile me," he said, almost whispering.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me," Reid wasn't sure where his attitude was coming from.

"I'm not profilin' you. You're my friend. There's a difference."

A silence filled the space between them until Reid finally spoke again acknowledging Morgan's effort to be that friend. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Hey," Morgan lifted off of Reid's desk in a quick motion. Reid thought maybe Morgan was just going to leave him be and say a goodnight until he realized he felt Morgan standing right behind him. He immediately tensed as he felt big, strong hands land on his shoulders. What is Morgan doing? Is this really happening? Reid could count each digit as their heat began to radiate through the thin fabric of his button up shirt. His shoulders were both squeezed four times each. In slow unison. In perfect rhythm. Morgan's thumbs pressed deeply into Reid's lower neck. And each squeeze of Morgan's hands pulled Reid's consciousness deeper and deeper, lulling his tired body. He could sense the chemicals releasing from his brain; it felt something like euphoria. It was something sweet and comforting, bottomless and quiet. It was also arousing. Did Morgan know his hands were weapons of seduction? He must. Reid chided himself. He shouldn't be thinking these thoughts.

Still feeling the compression in his muscles, but knowing Morgan had stopped Reid opened his eyes, only then realizing he had even closed them. Morgan was leaning against his desk in nearly the same spot as before and he was smiling at Reid. "I can tell by the look on your face you need some rest. Go home."

Reid cleared his throat and tried unsuccessfully to seem unaffected. "What look is that?" Reid wondered out loud, only slightly curious. His eyelids were heavy now. He was completely relaxed; like that mini-massage had released all his worry at the moment. And thank God for that because the foggy surface he was under was veiling just how much he was reeling on the inside. Aside from the arrhythmia he was experiencing, his mind was becoming quickly over stimulated with the thoughts of all of his hopes and dreams creeping back into his conscious, reminding him of what he wanted. He wondered if he could hide it.

"You look stoned, kid."

He didn't let his expression change at all, but Reid hated Morgan for saying that. He forgave him just as quickly. Besides, Morgan didn't mean anything by it and Reid knew that.

"You obviously liked that a little too much," Morgan continued with a smirk.

"Uh, what are you talking about?" Reid's face got hot as he frowned and he could feel each bead of sweat forming on his forehead. He nervously moved his hair behind his ears so his face could breathe. But then he cringed as he began to feel himself sweating everywhere from every pore. Well, crap, he thought. Morgan isn't stupid.

And Morgan was eyeballing him pretty hard. "Maybe you should see a masseuse once a week. Hell, twice – three times a week. You need a little more 'touchy feely' from the ladies. Everyone needs more of that." Reid finally looked up at Morgan to see him smiling with that intoxicating grin.

"Riiiight…" Reid nodded as he stretched the word out, trying to act interested. That only earned him a strange look from Morgan, so he changed the subject, much like he always did. "Drive me home?"

Morgan shook his keys in his palm. "Let's go."

The drive was quiet. Morgan hummed along to the radio. Reid watched the city lights blur in and blur out as he struggled to focus. The cab of the SUV was dark except for passing shadows and speeding glances of Morgan's face. "Does Hotch know you take this thing home at night?" Reid was just making conversation.

"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Morgan responded.

"Of course it does. Unless it's displaced or in captivity outside of its natural habitat – I don't understand what that has to do—"

"Never mind. The answer is yes."

"Oh."

Reid kept asking himself if tonight was the night, if this moment was the moment, if now was the right time. He swore that every other second he felt different about it. He kept changing his mind over and over again and it was exhausting. He let the drone of the V8 engine distract him while the motion of the vehicle rocked him into a slumber. He was almost asleep when he felt the inertia from Morgan parking the Suburban on the street.

"See ya tomorrow."

Reid took a second to rub his face with both hands trying to wake up. Now or never, he thought. "Would you like to come up and have a beer?" Reid asked, strongly hoping that he would.

Morgan glanced at his watch and considered it. It had just hit the 9:00 o'clock hour. "Uh... Yeah, okay."

They were at Reid's door when Morgan laughed. Reid chuckled too, but didn't know why they were laughing.

"Did I miss something?" Reid finally asked, turning the key.

"No, man. It just felt for a second like you're trying to get me alone. If I wake up with a condom hangin' out my ass and the entire room smells like burnt rubber, you better have some sneakers on, boy."

"Chasing me down will be hard to do with your pants around your ankles. In fact, statistically speaking, the odds of you actually—" Morgan wacked Reid on the back of his head as they walked in to Reid's apartment and made their way to the dark kitchen.

Morgan knew something was up now. "I think just the anticipation of alcohol has you drunk. I can't believe you just joked with me about that kinda thing." Morgan's eyes carefully weighed on Reid, trying to figure him out. "You're off. Everything about you is different. I've noticed it for a little while now. What gives?" Morgan lit up the kitchen as he took two beers from the refrigerator, handing one to Reid.

Reid turned on the light. He quickly opened his beer and tossed the bottle cap into the sink. Morgan followed suit. Reid could feel Morgan's energy. He had this brotherly love vibe and it was making Reid nervous as hell. He swore he could actually feel panic nipping at his heels, he had nowhere to run; he was already home. He took a long drink and wiped his mouth. Morgan was waiting for an answer. Reid had no idea what to say even after rehearsing this moment endlessly, variable after variable. None of that mattered now though. The moment was here. It was right here. In front of him and happening in his kitchen. He smiled to himself, so nervously.

"Morgan…" he started. He took a small step, just to steady himself on his own two feet and felt an all too familiar shooting pain slice through his left knee. He limped and winced automatically. Then he chuckled timidly, trying to laugh it off. "Wow, my knee hasn't bothered me in a while."

"Reid," Morgan said sternly. "You're officially stal—"

"Anthrax," Reid cut him off.

"What?" Morgan looked very concerned. Being reminded how he almost lost his best friend left him so inexplicably confused. Why is Reid bringing this up now?

"Funny little thing, anthrax," Reid wouldn't look Morgan in the eye. "Kinda puts things into perspective, you know?"

"Reid?" Morgan stepped closer. "What's goin' on, man?"

Reid could only look down, not being able to meet Morgan concerned stare. "I've been trying to rationalize this... I've read articles, books… I've tried everything to talk myself out of it. The thing is," Reid paused, trying to hold in an uneasy laugh and then continued with a raised level of frustration, "I still don't know what I'm doing." He let out a sigh trying to relax his heart because it was much too late to turn back now. "I uhh, I-I'm not very good at this…"

Morgan watched in surprise as Reid finished off his beer. He had barely got a couple drinks down himself. "What, Reid? What are you talking about?"

"Morgan…" Reid finally looked Morgan in the eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you."

REVISED 10/2014