A groan of complete annoyance escaped your mouth as you scrolled through the text conversation you were having with your mother.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten your cousin Lisa's wedding this weekend." You rolled your eyes at the message. How could you have forgotten it when you've been dreading it for months.
"Everything okay, (Y/N)?" You lift your head from your phone to see Derek Morgan, leaning against your desk with eyebrows raised in concern.
"I'm visiting my family this weekend." You shrugged but his confused look remained.
"Well that's great isn't it?" You couldn't help but laugh at the question.
"No, not really. We don't get along." You explained. It was an understatement. Your mother had never been there for you as a child after your father passed away. And whenever you saw her now, she was constantly harassing you about why you should quit working for the FBI, otherwise "You'll never find a real man to support you."
There was always a competition to be the best with your step-siblings and cousins as well. And by best it was who had the handsomest fiance, the newest car, or the shiniest diamond ring.
"I'd do anything to get out of visiting but it's a wedding so..." You trailed off.
"Do you want me to come?" Morgan asked and you almost dropped the coffee in your hand.
"Are you serious? You're actually volunteering to meet these people?" You practically gasped and all he did was shrug.
"There are worse ways to spend a weekend." He smirked at you, obviously revelling in your shocked expression.
"Oh really?" You challenged. You couldn't think of a worse activity.
"Getting to pretend to be a beautiful woman's date for two days?" He laughed as your cheeked reddened, "trust me, there are worse ways."
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The drive was long but you and Morgan decided it'd be nice to switch things up. You were so used to flying in the jet that Morgan's car felt like a welcome change.
"So this is Cindy," You pointed into a page of the scrapbook you'd brought and Morgan nodded. "She's married to Doug. You remember me showing you him right?"
"Yes, she's your newest step-sister and they have two kids, Lauren and Michael."
"Wow," you grinned, "Morgan, you're good."
"I might not have an eidetic memory like someone we know but I'm still pretty sharp." He glanced over and winked. You flip the page and begin to quiz him on the next family member.
"This is my cousin-" A large hand reaching over to your thigh stopped you.
"(Y/N) why don't we take a break." He smiled. You glanced down at the hand resting below your shorts on your bare skin and gulped at the butterflies it gave you. You'd had a thing for Morgan since the day you'd first met but it was always able to keep it professional. Now that you weren't working to catch a serial killer, it was a little more difficult to distract yourself.
"Sorry," You sat the scrapbook on the floor, "I just... I hope they believe us."
"Why wouldn't they? I'm an excellent actor." He pretended to be offended at your doubt, lifting his hand from your leg up to his heart, pretending to gasp.
"Shut up," You swatted him, laughing and he pulled into the hotel parking lot.
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The room was tiny with only one bed. Morgan stepped out of the bathroom, towel just barely hanging off his hips and the room suddenly felt warmer.
"Sorry this was all that was available... we could've just stayed at your mom's place." He taunted, knowing how opposed you were to the idea.
You rolled your eyes while he rummaged through his bags, "Morgan, I'd rather sleep in the car than be with her any longer than required this weekend."
It took all of your strength to look anywhere other than his glistening abs. "Well if you want the bathroom, it's all yours." He gestured to the door and you realized he was offering because he needed to get dressed.
"Right, of course." You leaped off the bed and grabbed your bag.
After washing your face and brushing your teeth there was a knock, "I'll take the couch, okay?" Morgan said from behind the door. You immediately opened it, finding yourself face to face with a Derek Morgan who was only wearing boxers.
"Um..." You were at a loss for words due to the close proximity. "Don't be ridiculous, take the bed."
"No way, (Y/N), I'm being a gentleman."
"Morgan, we'll just share it." Your heartbeat quickened when his eyes widened slightly. "It's no big deal." You waved him off and moved to the bed, making sure to only take as much space as necessary. He did the same on his side and after switching the lights off, you two laid in awkward silence. You tried moving to your side, but when you did, you came face to face with him.
Your breathing hitched as your gazes locked. "Get a grip," you commanded yourself.
"(Y/N)," He spoke quietly. "What did your mom do to you?"
"What do you mean?" You whispered.
"We're profilers. The hate you have for your mom had to be caused by something."
"I don't... hate her." You sighed, not sure if Morgan really believed that, not sure if you really believed yourself. "I just... "
"It's okay, (Y/N), you don't have to say if you don't want to."
I took a deep breath, "My dad died when I was nine." Morgan's hand reached across the bed to my own, squeezing it gently, thumb interlocking with my own.
"I'm sorry." He spoke softly. I knew this was a touchy subject for both of us. Morgan had lost his own dad at age ten.
"He was sick for a long time." I continued. "I was just used to it, you know? It was normal for me to come home and hear he'd been admitted to the hospital again. That's how bad it was."
"He was my best friend... and when he was gone..." My voice was shaky now, "My mom started bringing these men around. They were older and sleazy and just gross. My mom never even took time to grieve. She just married someone new like my dad never existed."
He only nodded, letting me continue telling stories of my childhood I'd never told anyone. Letting me lay in his arms as I talked about my dad's funeral, and eventually falling asleep, exhausted from the long day of travel and all of my emotions.
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I wake up disoriented. Confused by my surroundings for a split second before I realize who's asleep underneath me. I quickly untangle my limbs from his and move to my designated side of the bed, immediately noticing the cool sheets I pull around me. Meaning we slept like that the whole night, my body tucked into his.
My cheeks turn hot. Co workers do not share a bed, they do not sleep together, and they do not cuddle. But it was definitely comforting having Morgan here. Letting me cry to him last night, having him hold me. It was...really nice.
I lay there for a while, trying to fall asleep again but my mind won't let me. It's replaying details of last night and also filling with dread at the thought of the wedding today. Eventually the thin curtains can't hold the sunlight out and it streams across the bed right over Morgan's snoring body.
"Morgan." I whisper. A small whimper falls from his lips and I can't help but giggle. "Morgan." I try again louder. This time his eyes flutter open and meet mine.
"Morning already?" His voice is raspy from sleep. He reaches his arms up to stretch and then he's propped up on his pillow, turned to me.
"Did you sleep well?" He asks smiling. This suddenly feels very intimate. Casually chatting in bed together. I did practically wake up on top of the guy but I shouldn't feel this weird about it. Morgan is a good friend. Only a friend I need to remind myself. A friend doing me a favor.
"I did. What about you?"
"Slept great." He grins.
"We should probably get ready soon. My mom wants us there by noon." I sigh.
"Damn... so soon? I was hoping there'd be time for more cuddling." When he says this I feel my stomach erupt with butterflies. I freeze and my face flushes.
"I was kidding, (Y/N)" He laughs when I don't respond.
"Right, I know." I force a smile and move off the bed to get dressed in the bathroom. This is awkward and I need to escape.
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We're just down the road from my mom's home when Morgan finally breaks the silence. We'd been quiet, pretending to listen to the radio as we drove.
"Everything okay, (Y/N)?" He questions and my stomach drops as we pull into the driveway.
"Yeah, I'm just not looking forward to this." It isn't a lie. I'm also weirded out by my inappropriate feelings for Morgan, but I decide to leave that part out.
"Don't worry," He grabs my hand, squeezing it firmly in his, "you've got me."
As soon as we're out of the car, my mother is running out of the enormous house in her ridiculously high heels.
"Honey!" She squeals and pulls me close, suffocating me with her strong perfume and then air kissing both of my cheeks.
"Hi mom."
"Darling is that how you're wearing your hair nowadays? Bangs?" She shakes her head disapproving as I pull away. Less than 30 seconds and the insults are already beginning.
"I think she looks great." Morgan comes up from behind and my mother's smile reappears.
"Oh my, and who is this?" She winks at him.
"Mother, this is my boyfriend, Derek Morgan. Derek, this is my mother." I gesture between the two of them and they shake.
"Wow, a firm handshake on this one. And these muscles!" My mother reaches for his arm, making Morgan laugh.
"Thank you ma'am."
"You must work for the FBI?" She asks.
"Yeah, he works for the BAU with me." I answer. She turns to me, shaking her head, "See (Y/N), these are the men we need working for the FBI. Tough and buff," She rubs his bicep again and I cringe, "Not you, sweetie. You're so... dainty. It's simply too dangerous for women. What happened to the days of letting men take care of us as well as the crime fighting? Such simpler times, I say."
After she's done offending not only me but all women, she's prancing back to the house mentioning something about the "incompetent florist delivering the wrong shade of roses."
"Wow your mom sure is something..." Morgan rests his hand at the small of my back and we follow her inside.
"Something horrendous." I mutter beneath my breath. I lead him straight to the refreshment table for flutes of champagne that I'm sure I'll be returning to for seconds, thirds, possibly fourths to pass the time till the actual wedding.
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"Have you noticed the stares?" Morgan's deep voice whispers into my ear once we've reached our seats for the wedding.
"Hmm?" The music begins to play and he leans closer to me. A shiver runs down my spine when I feel his breath on my skin.
"Everyone's been looking at you. You look incredible in that dress."
"You sure they aren't actually looking at you and your muscles?" I tease, grabbing his arm, mimicking my mother. He laughs and we're shushed by someone behind us.
The wedding then starts and my cousin walks down the aisle. Vows are being said but instead of paying attention I'm looking around at the guests. Most of them are my family and more than once I've caught people looking over at Morgan and I. The way their eyes linger on Morgan has me feeling protective until they look to me and I realize what they're really feeling. Jealousy.
I smile to myself and Morgan notices. "What's so funny?"
"Every girl here has a thing for you." I whisper. He looks down at me with a puzzled expression and I point up front to several of my cousins and a couple bridesmaids who have their gazes locked on him.
His brows furrow like he can't imagine why all of these women would be interested in him. It's amusing because of course, he is very attractive. Can I really blame them? His arm slips around the back of my chair to my shoulder and he lightly kisses my temple.
"What about now?" He asks. I look up again and they've all quickly turned away.
"You're good." I smirk, ignoring my pounding heart.
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The rest of the evening consists mostly of catching jealous glares and dancing in the back corner during the reception.
"Shouldn't we be socializing?" Morgan asks as he returns from the bar, two drinks in hand.
"Is that really a question you're asking me?" I laugh, reaching for a glass.
"You're right. When will I learn?" He chuckles and sits beside me.
I have to admit, the wedding planners sure did turn my mom's backyard into a gorgeous location for the wedding. The tables surrounded a large dance floor and stage for the DJ. There were twinkling lights lining the trees but it was nothing compared to the actual twinkling stars and moon that were out. It was an incredibly clear night and the perfect temperature.
"It's actually really nice out here." I sigh, looking over to Morgan. The lights reflect in his dark eyes.
"One more dance?" He holds a hand out and I reach for it after tossing back the last of my drink, feeling the burn in the back of my throat. As if on cue a slower song begins.
"This is for all the couples out there. Maybe you'll be getting married next!" The DJ calls into the mic and we make our way to the more secluded corner of the floor. His arms wrap around my waist and I lean my chin on his shoulder, pulling his closer. We sway back and forth slowly.
"I'm sure you didn't enjoy this weekend," Morgan speaks softly, "but I have to say I really did."
"Derek, I did enjoy it." I smile against his suit jacket, inhaling the scent of his cologne. I start to feel a little nervous again. No one ever called him Derek at work but in this moment it felt right.
"Seriously, (Y/N)?" I can sense a smile on his face from the way he was asking.
"Because of you, yes." I admit, worrying the alcohol is causing me to spill my feelings. And in a split second he's pulling himself back so that we're face to face.
"All of this..." I motion between us, "the pretend relationship thing... are you really just pretending?" I exhale a breath I hadn't known I was holding as I anticipate his answer. I didn't know what the hell I was doing, asking a question like that but before I can apologize for being foolish, his lips are on mine. Large hands glide up the sides of my neck to my cheeks then into my hair. I'm pulled closer and strained upward as his lips move slowly against mine. It's careful and soft and I know it's wrong but it's so sweet and I finally give in.
When his tongue comes in contact with mine, my hands pull him even closer, wrapping themselves in his arms. We stay like this for what feels like forever. I can't even hear the music anymore, all I notice are his hands making their way to my waist and his lips on my mouth.
"Derek." I gasp, pulling away when I can't breathe anymore.
"That answer's no." He insists, only pulling away enough to look at me. "It's not pretend. I didn't offer to come here because I was being friendly. I like you, (Y/N), a lot. I came to show you that."
My heart feels like it could burst at the seams and I pull him back to me, smashing my lips against his to show him I feel the same way.