Word Count: 5722
Themes: Sex, trans!Reid
Warning: Discussion of gender dysphoria, sexual assault, bullying.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, but I do take liberties with them for no financial gain.
Notes: Final part of this series. [one, two] Beta'd for spelling/grammar, and also beta'd for content by a fantastic trans dude. That said, I am cis and the writing will reflect that, not least in the fic (as with the previous ones) being Morgan (cis) POV focused.
Summary: After deciding they want to be together, Reid asks for something he wants.
They had coffee at Morgan’s – it was late, they wanted to talk, and wanted privacy. He set their coffees down on the kitchen island and slipped onto the stool opposite Reid.
“Is there anything you want to ask about it?” Reid posed as he lifted his coffee under his nose to draw in the aroma.
Morgan did have questions, lots of them, but he didn’t want to overwhelm his new lover. “What kind of testosterone do you take?”
“I take 100mg every two weeks, injected.”
“That’s the low end,” Morgan observed. “I’ve been researching.”
“I’ve been taking it for a long time, this is optimal for me. To get a body like yours, I’d probably need double the dose.”
“Never been tempted?” Morgan teased, flexing one arm for good measure. Reid smirked, but let his hand wander to the muscle on show and palm it appreciatively.
“I’ve always identified as male, but never identified with a lot of traditionally masculine things. Sports, for example. I think sometimes it helped, at least it meant the benchmark for the ‘maleness’ I wanted to achieve was lower. But not wanting to be hyper-masculine meant that at almost every step of the way as a teenager I was told I was probably just a tomboy, a lesbian.”
Morgan nodded, keen to listen, but it made him think about information that had been shared some years before. “You’ve talked to me about when you were bullied. About a time when kids tied you to a goalpost,” Morgan said, letting the words linger. Reid seemed to realise what was on Morgan’s mind, because he smiled sadly.
“That did happen,” he nodded. “I was passing. Everyone had assumed I was a boy, even teachers. Even in gym, I was grouped with the boys, and they just thought I was shy about changing.”
Reid closed his eyes for a few seconds and took a long breath in through his nose. “It was almost the whole truth; Harper Hillman told me Alexa Lisbon wanted to meet me behind the field house. The whole football team was there. Kids three or four years older than me. And of course when they stripped me naked, they realised I had a vagina. They tied me to the goalpost, my hands behind me, so I couldn’t cover myself and they could gawk. One of the football players, he touched me. Groped me, really, groped my genitals, then shouted out that it was real, that I ‘really was a girl’. So of course then they started shouting about me being a dyke. Alexa made a show of how disgusted she was that a ‘girl’ had a crush on her.”
Morgan twisted his hands around his mug of coffee, trying not to show how angry he was at what had happened to Reid.
“In all the taunting there was someone saying they should teach me how to be a girl, trying to rally people to support the idea. I wasn’t a naive child, I knew that was a threat of sexual assault. Further sexual assault, technically. Luckily, I guess, his friends got him to leave with them, saying that I was just a kid and to stop being stupid. Sometimes I wonder what have happened if I was the same age as them, if my age hadn’t caused them a visceral reaction to the idea of watching me get sexually assaulted. The next day it had got around that I was ‘really’ a girl. Kids were awful, teachers mainly assumed I just hadn’t corrected anyone because I was too shy. But everyone switched to feminine pronouns, calling me a girl, segregating me with the girls. I was miserable until I graduated.”
Morgan reached across and took Reid’s hand in his. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
Reid squeezed his hand in return, and smiled at him. “Is there anything else you want to ask?”
“Not right now,” Morgan said. He was sure he could think of something if he wanted, but he’d rather let the conversations happen organically.
“Then I have a question for you,” Reid said, leaning his elbows on the work surface.
“We’ve had two sexual encounters; why didn’t you orgasm at either of them?”
Reid was looking at him levelly, but Morgan still felt a little sheepish when he answered.
“I just figured it was more important for you to cum,” he said. “I liked making you cum.”
Reid smiled into his coffee as he took a drink, and then said, “You were very good at making me cum.”
Morgan, chuckling appreciatively, set his own mug down. “Has anyone else ever made you orgasm?”
“No,” Reid shook his head a little. “When I was younger I had a relationship with Ethan. He tried, but I was so dysphoric at the time, in the months before my chest surgery. I would only let him touch my genitals through my underwear. I still had breasts I was binding with bandages. I was so desperate to make clear my identity as a man who sometimes likes men, the thought of having vaginal sex wasn’t a pleasant one. I wanted to do it like a ‘real’ man, so we had anal sex.”
“How was it?”
“It was nice. Ethan knew was he was doing, he was patient. But like with everything else we did together sexually, it might feel nice but I never got close to achieving orgasm. Even through masturbation it was difficult. The dysphoria was crippling, at times. I hated my vagina, and I hated knowing that surgery could never give me a functional penis to the standard I wanted. It still can’t.”
“But you don’t seem to hate your vagina now,” Morgan said carefully. “Do you?”
“No. I made peace with my genitals, for the most part,” Reid said. “Once I had my uterus and ovaries removed, taking my menstrual cycle with it, that really helped. Testosterone changed my body, and I guess I just accepted that science hasn’t yet got the capability to construct or transplant a penis to the standard I want. Sometimes it happens - I get dysphoric, I mean, but right now I just want to experience the potential my genitals have.”
“Yeah,” Morgan nodded.
“This is a roundabout way of saying that I want to have penetrative sex with you, Derek.”
“You do? Do you mean anal sex, or-” he let his words hang, knowing Reid had used the scientific terms in the abstract, but now unsure what was appropriate.
“Or,” Reid said simply, and Morgan understood. “If you want it too.”
“I want as much as you do, Spencer,” Morgan said calmly. “You know you don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, or,” he paused, “dysphoric, okay?”
“That’s the thing,” Reid said, sitting up straighter. “I didn’t feel dysphoric at all when we were together. I thought I would, honestly, I-” he hesitated, as if worried about offending Morgan, but decided to go on regardless. “You’re very masculine. I thought I’d feel intimidated, dysphoric in the face of you. But then when you found out, you just took it in stride, and didn’t make me feel bad. It felt good, being intimate with you.”
“You haven’t actually seen me yet though,” Morgan said. “I mean, I’ve been partly dressed both times. I guess that’s also part of why I avoided getting off the second time. I’d been reading, reading that some trans men can feel super dysphoric when faces with cis male partners' erections and ejaculation.”
“That’s a possibility,” Reid nodded. “I’m ready for that, if you are.”
“How will I know if you’re feeling dysphoric?” Morgan asked. He knew he’d probably be able to tell, but he didn’t want to miss it and make Reid feel worse.
“I’ll tell you.”
“You promise?” Morgan asked. “And what if I use the wrong words? You said you were unsure about what you wanted to call your genitals.”
“The scientific terms are correct, and I'm comfortable using them to discuss my genitals,” he reasoned, “but I doubt even cis women often ask people to put things in their vagina.”
Morgan laughed. “Not in my experience.”
“Just-” Reid paused, taking a breath in and slowly exhaling. “I'm okay with slang words for penis to refer to my genitals. Although I have an actual phallus, I just didn't bring it with me.” Morgan quirked an eyebrow, so Reid stumbled on. “I mean it's a replica, a sex toy-”
“I understood,” Morgan interrupted, smiling warmly. “So, how about 'hole'?”
“That's pretty neutral, so, yeah. Front hole, if you need to differentiate. Just not ...'pussy'.”
“Okay,” Morgan nodded, even though it had never occurred to him to call it that. “You have to let me know if I’m doing things wrong, Spencer; if I'm using the wrong words.”
“I will, Derek.” Reid ran his finger around the rim of his mug several times, as Morgan watched him, looking at him with such affection. “When was the last time you were tested for sexually transmitted infections?” he asked abruptly, looking up.
“After the first time we were together,” Morgan admitted. “After I'd bet it all and told you I loved you. I've always tested clear, same this time.”
“Since I wasn't sexually active, I haven't been tested since my last physical,” Reid explained. “Likewise, I'm all clear.”
Morgan nodded his acknowledgement, and wondered if this line of questioning had a further point or if Reid was just prompting them to disclose their status to each other.
“As neither of us has any STIs, and we've already decided on a monogamous relationship, and I'm not at risk of getting pregnant, are condoms necessary?”
“Maybe not. Unless you want to use them as a matter of preference.”
“Why would I want to use them if they serve no purpose?”
“Well,” Morgan said evenly, “they can make clean-up easier.”
“Oh,” Reid nodded, understanding. “So they still have a practical application even if they're not necessary for protection from pregnancy or STIs.”
“So if you want, we can still use condoms.”
Reid's gaze was fixed on him. “Doesn't it feel better without?”
“I wouldn't know, from personal experience. I've never had sex without a condom.”
“You haven't?” Reid asked. “So... I could be your first?”
Morgan smiled, amused. “You want to be my first something?”
“The psychological impact of being the first to engage in a sexual act with a partner has long been documented as significant to a majority of people. And considering how experienced you are, it's surprising there's anything left you haven't done.”
“You calling me a dog, pretty boy?” he teased, and Reid grinned sheepishly. “So when do you want to be my first?” Smirking, Morgan leaned his arms on the counter.
“Now,” Reid said, grinning a little. “Show me your bedroom?”
Morgan went with the nervous fluttering in his stomach as he held out his hand to Reid, who took it and squeezed it as they headed through the house, upstairs to his bedroom. Once the door was pushed closed to keep Clooney out, and the lights dim through the comforting dark, Reid lifted his hand and pulled Morgan to him by his neck, initiating a kiss. Morgan put his hands on Reid’s waist, and let the man dictate the depth of the kiss. Reid wasn’t an experienced kisser, but he was firm and confident, falling into rhythm with Morgan.
“Can I see you?” Reid murmured. Morgan kissed the side of his mouth, hands teasing under his shirt as Reid let out a breath against his skin. “Will you undress for me?”
“Sure, baby,” he murmured, pulling away. “You get comfortable.”
Reid backed up onto the bed, slipping out of his shoes as Morgan toed off his own. Reid leaned back on one hand, the other lingering to slowly undo the buttons of his shirt, watching Morgan with interest. Morgan didn’t want to be left standing in his socks when he got down to it, so he used his feet to remove those too as his hands went to the hem of his blue t-shirt. As he pulled it up and over his head, he considered that undressing for someone might be sexier the more clothes you had, but it would have to do. He dropped the piece of clothing somewhere behind him, his bare torso on display for Reid. The man looked at him appreciatively as he pushed his own shirt away from his shoulders.
Next his hands went to his belt, unbuckling it and watching Reid for reaction. His gaze raked over him, watching as the denim slid down his thighs. He stepped out of his jeans as one hand braced on his stomach, the other lifted to touch the back of his neck.
“Wow,” Reid breathed. His fly was open, and his hand was inside.
“Are you touching yourself?” Morgan asked, mouth twitching with amusement.
“You look amazing. I’ve imagined your body quite a lot, especially lately. I’ve masturbated thinking about you.”
“Yeah,” Reid was grinning a little nervously, but his hand was moving and his eyes were all over Morgan’s body.
“Before or after we got together?”
“Both,” Reid said. “But after, it was easier to reach orgasm, imagining you. Remembering how you made me orgasm twice the very first time we had a sexual encounter.”
“I’m glad I could help,” he murmured.
“You gonna...?” Reid hinted, looking deliberately at Morgan’s boxer briefs, hugging his forming hardness.
Morgan hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled his underwear down, bending to step out of them and then straightening again. He was very aware of his own genitals and was, for the first time in a long time, almost self-conscious. He watched Reid carefully, hoping the sight of him wouldn’t make Reid feel dysphoric or uncomfortable.
Reid, however, licked his lips and pushed his slacks down his legs, kicking them off; both of these things seemed like good signs.
“Come here,” he said as he sat up on the bed. Reid’s assertiveness was electrifying, and Morgan stepped forward. Reid lifted his hands and gripped Morgan’s hips, pulling his lover close. He bent his head and pressed his lips to Morgan’s hip, against solid muscle and hipbone, lingering against his skin.
“You smell good,” Reid murmured. Morgan brushed his hand over Reid’s head and down to his shoulder as the man kissed up, over his stomach. He looked up at him as his hands ran slowly up and down the backs of Morgan’s thighs. “You changed your sheets.”
“Huh?” Morgan sounded. His increasing arousal seemed to be directly affecting his ability to process information.
Reid kissed his stomach again, dragging his lips over his muscle definition. “There are fresh sheets on your bed.”
Reid’s hands had reached the small of his back, and pulled him down towards him, lifting his head for a kiss Morgan was only too happy to give. Reid eased himself further onto the bed, and Morgan moved with him, trying to maintain the kiss. He slipped between Reid’s legs and eased his body against the other man’s, making him arch slightly and break away from the kiss.
“After our encounters at my apartment my bed smelled like you,” he murmured. “There’s no evidence of the effect of human pheromones having a role in sexuality, but smell is likely to produce emotive responses and recollections.” He kissed Morgan right on his bottom lip, a lingering motion as he ran his hands down his sides. “I liked being able to smell you.”
“Next time I won’t change my sheets,” Morgan said as he kissed Reid’s jaw. Reid hummed his approval, and moved to flip them. Morgan let himself be moved, resting up against the pillows as Reid moved back, straddling his legs.
“I just want to see you, your body. Well,” he gave a little shrug, “your penis.”
Morgan gestured to his groin with one hand, the other rubbing Reid’s thigh. “There we go.” He noticed that Reid hadn’t taken his underwear off with his trousers, but he didn’t say anything; he wanted Reid to go at his own pace.
“Yours isn’t the first penis I’ve interacted with,” Reid said matter-of-factly, as he took Morgan’s cock in hand. “Although my interactions with Ethan were awkward. Lots of handjobs without looking at what I was doing.”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Spencer,” Morgan said. Reid seemed to just be feeling the size and weight of him, the shape of his increasing hardness.
“I know. I want to be here with you.”
He thumbed at the bead of precum that had formed at the tip of Morgan’s cock, drawing his thumb away with a string of the fluid with it. It gave way and landed against his thumb, which he lifted to his mouth and lapped at. Morgan was mesmerised by the sight.
“I tried to research first time sexual penetration experiences,” Reid said and licked his thumb again.
“Tried?” Morgan said.
“I had to battle through literature that consistently used the wrong pronouns, and there are key differences between my genitals and that of cis women. So we’re going to have to work it out ourselves.”
“Easy enough in theory,” Morgan said. “We get you ready, get you wet, and we take it slow. Do you need anything special?”
“Just that the testosterone means I don’t produce as much natural lubrication as other people. So I need lube.”
“I have a good one.”
“Okay.” Reid rocked forward, Morgan’s cock still in his hand, to kiss him. “I never thought the first time I had this kind of sex would involve so much discussion. I romanticised it, really. This can’t be sexy.”
“Spencer, you knowing what you want and need, and telling me so, is incredibly sexy.”
“Oh yeah. So tell me, what do you want?”
Reid leaned in to kiss Morgan again, while he linked his fingers around his wrist and manoeuvred his hand to guide Morgan’s, pressing it to his lower belly and a little below the hem of his underwear. Morgan got the idea and pushed his hand under, down through the patch of soft curls and against Reid’s intimate flesh. He was hot and damp, and pushed his groin into the touch. He touched him carefully, reacquainting himself with the man’s flesh, the slightly damp heat of his folds, the protrusion of his blood-swollen shaft.
“You wanna lie back, baby?” Morgan asked. “It’ll probably be more comfortable.”
Reid nodded, and they rearranged themselves again. With Reid laid against the pillows he hooked his thumb into his underwear, lifting his rear to pull them off. Morgan helped, dragging them down his legs. Afterwards he caught Reid’s ankle and lifted it to kiss the inside of it, more kisses along his calf, and he stroked his hand along his inner thigh. He touched the subtly swollen outer folds, and Reid almost purred. Morgan grinned and moved up alongside Reid’s body, leaning in to kiss him as he rubbed in slow circles with the flat of his fingers. Reid was hot under his hand, and panted into the kiss.
“Spencer,” Morgan breathed, still pressing with the flat of his hand against Reid, “is there anything we’ve done before you don’t want to do again?”
“If this is your way of asking if you can use your fingers and your mouth again,” Reid murmured, “you can do it all. Any of it.”
“Good,” Morgan said, as he began to kiss down Reid's neck and collar, and then over his chest, laying a kiss down his torso between his words. “Because I... have... been... thinking... about... doing this... for... weeks.”
He nudged his nose at the neat patch of hair, coaxing the man to open his legs wider.
“Doing what?” Reid encouraged. He wasn't stupid, so Morgan realised Reid wanted to hear him say it.
“Eating you out. Differently, I mean, pretty boy, not sucking you like I did last time.”
“Last time was good,” Reid murmured, settling back into the pillows.
“Yeah.” Morgan blew a cool stream of air directly on Reid's heated flesh. “But I wanna make you cum just using my mouth. Sound like a good way to get you ready?”
“Yes,” he groaned, gazing down his body at where Morgan was getting comfortable.
“Hand me a pillow.” When Reid did, Morgan urged the man to lift his hips so he could slide it under him, angling him upwards slightly.
He ran his hands along the insides of Reid’s thighs, into the crease and towards his genitals. Reid gave a little breathy noise, hips lifting slightly. Morgan lowered his mouth and put a kiss right beside his centre, teasing him with contact and the hint of facial hair. Avoiding the swollen and extended shaft of flesh, Morgan put his mouth lower, and darted his tongue out against the man's softer offerings. He nudged each soft pink fold with his tongue, staying aware for Reid’s breathy responses. He licked slowly, trying to avoid Reid’s blood-swollen shaft, but kept bumping it with his nose. Each time Reid would let out a little gasp, and Morgan would mouth at him.
Instead of using his thumbs to pry Reid apart, he pressed forward, searching with his mouth. Pressing against Reid so wantonly instead of precise, measured laps with his tongue was satisfying and completely erotic, as was the sensory stimulation; the smell and taste of him, sweet and tangy, delicious in a way food could never hope to be. He hummed his appreciation, and Reid moaned continuously as Morgan didn't let up.
Eventually Morgan paid some attention to Reid’s neglected shaft, made sure his lips were wet and closed them around the stiff flesh.
“Finally!” Reid gasped, and Morgan hummed in amusement this time. He closed his mouth around his shaft and the top of his mound, and wiggled his tongue below his shaft as he sucked firmly. Reid gasped and bucked, beginning to thrust his face against Morgan's mouth. He went with it, allowing Reid to set the pace and moving his mouth to accommodate. He knew he was doing a good job when Reid's hands ended up on the back of his head, urging him on as he moaned and thrust his hips into the sensation. The tiniest addition of teeth for a brief moment had Reid yelling and pulling Morgan''s face to him so forcefully that the man's nose bumped hard against him.
“Sorry,” Reid murmured, apparently suddenly aware of what he'd been doing, and he moved his hands away from where they gripped Morgan's head.
Morgan carefully pulled away, sucking luxuriously on Reid's shaft as he moved back. “Hey, it's fine if you wanna hold on,” he grinned at him. “Just watch for me tapping out, yeah?”
The hands returned almost as soon as Morgan began to lick at him again. He put his hands gently on the inside of Reid’s thighs to keep them parted, and mouthed at him in earnest, tongue moving past his folds to poke into his opening, lapping at the taste of him centred there.
“Oh god,” Reid groaned. “Suck me again, please.”
Happy to oblige, Morgan caught Reid’s small shaft between his lips and sucked on it, dragging his tongue over the sensitive tip.
“Derek, I mean like before.”
Morgan loved that the man knew what he wanted, so he closed his mouth around more of his genitals, pressing against him as he sucked. Reid groaned and resumed thrusting his groin against him, hands keeping him in place on the back of his head. His skin was flushed pink, his folds wet and hot, glistening in the ambient half-light of the bedroom.
“Derek!” he gasped, and Morgan could feel him bearing down against him harder and harder. “I'm going to – oh oh oh!”
Morgan didn't let up, pressed his tongue around and sucked, holding Reid still with his hands on his thighs. Reid shuddered and continued to cry out, and squeezed his fingers on Morgan's head as he yelled and rode out his orgasm.
Morgan eased up, and couldn't help the grin as he kissed his way up Reid's torso slowly, the man's hands never leaving him. When he had drawn up level Reid linked his fingers together behind Morgan's neck. He pulled him down and kissed him, tongue flicking out to taste himself on Morgan's lips.
“Damn, pretty boy,” he murmured.
Reid gave a breathy laugh. “You think I've never tasted myself before?”
“You taste so good, right?” Morgan cooed, nudging at his jaw, and trailing up to share another kiss. It was slow and languid, hands roaming, Morgan's thigh pressed up between Reid's.
Reid broke the kiss, just barely. “Can I ride you?”
“Damn,” Morgan groaned. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
“Okay. Lie back.”
Morgan was happy to comply, amused as Reid leaned over to rummage in Morgan's bedside draw, the logical place to look for lubricant. He straddled his waist without preamble, and his long legs let him hold his body above him, but Morgan could feel the heat radiating from between his legs against his skin.
“You sure about this, Spencer?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “What's worrying you?”
“That I'll hurt you.”
“I'm not expecting it to be perfect,” Reid said, lowering himself, pressing his centre down against Morgan's cock that lay hot and hard against him. “Ah, then again...” he moved slightly, dragging his hips back and then forward, rubbing himself against Morgan's cock. “How do we?” He held the bottle of lube up, looking to Morgan.
“You better slide back, baby,” he said, and took the bottle as Reid did. He squirted some onto his hand and reached for his cock, Reid's gaze following his hand. “More?” he prompted. Reid judged, and then reached out to wrap his hand around him and give him a few strokes for good measure. “I think there's enough. I'm pretty wet.”
The lube discarded on the bed beside them, Reid planted his hands firmly on Morgan's torso and lifted his hips, as the other man took himself in hand and angled for penetration. Reid wiggled back, until Morgan had the head of his cock lodged between his folds. Reid was deliciously warm and wet, and he fought the urge to buck.
“I'll hold still, you push on,” he urged.
Reid had obviously neglected to breath, because as he pushed back he drew in a ragged breath. He noticed Morgan's immediate concern, but cut him off before he could barely open his mouth.
“I'm fine, Derek,” he hushed, still pushing back. When he slowed, about three inches of Morgan's cock was in snug heat. “Should I rock, or lift, or-”
“Baby, you do whatever you like,” he encouraged. “It's all gonna feel good to me.”
Reid nodded, and pushed back more. There was some resistance, and Morgan knew it would take movement and pressure to allow Reid to take any more of him. The lubrication helped though, because as Reid's fingers curled on his chest he drew his hips up a tiny bit, and then pressed down again. He let out a small moan at the sensation, as Morgan kept holding his cock in place and used his other hand to stroke Reid’s thigh.
It didn't actually take that long, with Reid fucking himself steadily on Morgan's length, until he had taken half, and each slow downward push met the hand that Morgan had grasped around his base. Morgan ran his other hand up his lover's thigh, over his hip and up his side as Reid breathed heavily.
“How you doing, Spencer?”
“Feels really good, Derek,” he groaned as he tipped his hips forward and back, fucking himself on several inches of Morgan's cock.
He looked stunning to Morgan's eyes. The light of the damp cast the room in dramatic shadow, and made the light sheen of perspiration on Reid's skin glisten. His hair bounced around his face,the lengthening curls looking soft and inviting as he moved, and the man below him moved ever so slightly in response. Reid's flat, subtly toned chest heaved with each breath, and below his navel a trail of hair led the way to where he was hard and swollen, stretched wide around Morgan's cock.
“Take your hand away,” Reid urged. Carefully Morgan did, and as Reid sank further onto him with a loud groan he gripped his rear in both hands.
“Fuck - god, ah!” he gasped. “I- ghnngh.”
“You're cute when you can't talk,” Reid murmured, an echo of the first time, grinning down at him. It took Morgan a moment to realise he was pushing his hips up right against Reid, and that the man had seated himself completely on him.
“Christ, Spencer,” he breathed, and ran his hand down the man's thighs. “You okay?”
“Uh-huh. Full. So full,” he rocked his hip, and apparently the motion was especially good, because his breath caught and his dug his fingertips into Morgan's torso. He kept rocking, going faster as he fell into a good rhythm. Morgan moved with him, willing himself not to lose control too soon. The sight of him, though, the sounds he was making, the way he smelt, it was all so much.
When Reid reached between his legs to touch himself, Morgan wanted to do it for him, but he knew it would probably be easier with Reid's constant motion for him to do it, gripping himself between his fingers and jerking. Instead he encouraged him, gripping his thighs and thrusting up against Reid's downward motion.
“Oh fuck, Derek, I'm gonna-”
With a guttural whine Reid's muscles clamped down on Morgan, and as his hips jerked his inner walls spasmed, and he groaned as he continued to stroke himself through his climax. Almost immediately Reid lifted his legs and pulled off of Morgan, making a slightly uncomfortable sound as he collapsed next to him, hips still moving wantonly, and still touching himself.
“Sorry, I'm sorry,” he panted, “it was too much.”
“It's okay,” Morgan said, still very aware of his aching erection. “But do you mind if I...?”
Before he could even reach for his cock though, Reid had moved, taken him in hand, and wrapped his mouth around him.
“Damn!” he gasped, unable to think of much else as Reid sucked him. He had never done this before, Morgan knew, but his mouth was logical; no teeth, sucking greedily on him as he stroked the lower part of his cock, swirling his tongue around the head, and flicking over the most sensitive part. Book smarts were certainly something Reid could use to his advantage, as Morgan groaned and tangled his fingers through the man's hair.
“God, baby boy,” he groaned. It occurred to him that Reid was tasting himself on his cock, making appreciative sounds as he sucked enthusiastically at him. “Baby I'm gonna cum,” he warned. Reid pulled back until just the head of Morgan's shaft was in his mouth, and redoubled his efforts stroking him. It was then that he finally looked up and met Morgan's gaze – and Morgan knew he was a goner. Reid's eyes were wide and warm, his cheeks flushed pink and his lips stretched lusciously around Morgan's cock.
He groaned, and even though he tried he couldn't keep his eyes from screwing up and his head from tipping back at the sheer sensation of his climax, racing through him as he shot several loads of cum into Reid's waiting mouth. Reid didn't swallow straight away, savouring the experience, his tongue swirling around as Morgan came. Finally he pulled off with a satisfying sound, licking his lips as he straightened and swallowed.
“Honestly thought you were going to do the whole 'oh don't worry about me' routine again,” Reid said, amused and a little breathless as he wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist.
“Not after the way you fucked me, baby,” he said quietly. Reid smiled, resting on his haunches as they watched each other for a moment.
Eventually Reid scooted up the bed and leaned over to turn off the lamp, pushing the bottle of lube out of the bed as he went. Then he moved into Morgan's waiting embrace, and put an arm over his chest as he curled against his side.
“How was it?” Morgan asked.
“Good. Really good, Derek. I'm sorry I couldn't go for longer.”
“You think you pushed yourself a little too hard?”
“No, I was fine until I came,” Reid assured. “Then everything felt so sensitive.”
“Alright.” Morgan leaned over to kiss Reid's forehead. “No need to apologize. That was amazing. Watching you riding me, pretty boy, you looked stunning.”
“I felt it. I felt... I'm not sure how to explain it,” Reid said, voice relaxed as sated, as Morgan managed to pull the bedsheet up with one hand, around their middles; the heat was enough for now, but clearly he was forward-planning for the middle of the night when it was cooler. “I guess the only way to explain it is to say I didn't feel dysphoric, or female in any way, or like you saw me that way.”
“I see you as you are, Spencer,” Morgan assured. “The man I've known all these years, the man I trust. The man I'm in love with.”
“I love you, too,” Reid whispered, nuzzling into him.
Morgan hummed his agreement, and kissed the man's forehead again, stroking his hand along Reid's arm until he could lace their fingers together against his chest.
Current Mood: Grateful