Turtleneck | Derek Morgan
Summary; Derek leaves a surprise for the reader to deal with in the morning— in the form of telling her friends about their not so secret secret relationship.
You looked in the mirror of your hotel room, pulling your hair to the side so you could get a better look at your neck. You groaned, throwing your head back.
“What the hell, Derek?” you yelled out, turning your head to face the bathroom so he could hear you through the cracked door.
“What’s going on, babygirl?” Derek questioned, his brows furrowed as he stepped out of your shared bathroom with a towel wrapped low on his waist.
“This is ‘what’s going on,” you pouted, pointing at the huge purple bruise that sat ugly on the side of your neck.
Derek smirked, chuckling low, but loud enough for you to hear him, “Well that doesn’t look like much of a problem to me, babygirl.”
Derek walked towards you slowly, turning around so you faced him head on. He lifted your chin gently to get a better look at the bruise, rubbing his thumb softly across the darkened skin. He leaned down to place a kiss where he left the mark, not missing the way you breathed out shakily, your head leaning back against the wall.
“I’m sure it’s not, but I don’t need the team and the police officers staring at this ugly thing you left on me,” you pouted, moving away from Derek so you could sift through your makeup bag in hopes of finding some form of full coverage concealer or foundation.
You and Derek’s relationship was on the low, nobody knowing about it in spite of a suspicious Emily Prentiss and JJ, who’s thoughts were never confirmed. Sure you guys shared a room on a case occasionally, but that was nothing new. You’ve shared with Spencer before too.
“Dammit,” you groaned, not finding what you were looking for. Apparently when you were packing you were confident that you’d be getting plenty of sleep on this case, because you didn’t pack a concealer at all.
“What’s wrong, beautiful? You not enjoying my art work? ‘Cause I’m loving it,” Derek smirked, pulling a shirt over his now dry chest.
“No, I’m not enjoying it. And I have absolutely nothing to cover it, not even a scarf.”
Derek scoffed, “Well that’s ‘cause it’s almost 70 degrees out,”
“I don’t understand why you’re so calm about this,” you sighed, throwing your body down on the double sized bed, “—nobody knows about us, Der. And I think the quarter sized love bite on the side of my neck gives it away pretty clearly.”
“Listen, babygirl, you know I don’t care if the team knows. I’d shout that you were mine off the rooftops if you’d let me. But, if it’s bothering you this much, just go ask Emily if you can borrow one of her turtlenecks.” Derek shrugged, leaning down so he could press a kiss to your cheek. “I’m gonna go grab breakfast with Reid. I’ll bring you back a muffin or something.”
You bid your farewells to Derek as he exited the hotel room, leaving you to panic on your own. You hadn’t even had time to get dressed, clad in one of his shirts that was way too big for you and a pair of plaid pajama pants.
You decided that your best bet was to, in fact, take Derek’s advice in borrowing a shirt from Emily. You knew that it meant coming clean about your relationship but— desperate times called for desperate measures.
You grabbed the shirt that you had initially intended on wearing— a red, kind of low cut blouse like had a loose fit— and your key card, knowing that Emily would be willing to make a trade because she absolutely loved that top of yours.
You tip toed out of your room, your feet clad in fuzzy socks that Penelope had gotten you for Christmas one year. You knocked on JJ and Emily’s door quietly, not wanting to alert the rest of the team of your presence. The last thing you needed was the whole team seeing your giant hickey.
“Who is it?” You could hear JJ ask from the other side of the door.
“It’s me,” you sighed, knowing that she of course recognized your voice.
You slipped in the room quickly, checking behind you to make sure nobody saw. “Look, I need a favor, Emily,” you sighed, turning to face the woman.
“Woah,” she gasped when she took you in, JJ watching from beside her with a huge grin, “what the hell is that?” She questioned, gesturing to the mark on your neck.
“It’s a hickey,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up immensely.
JJ covered her mouth, hiding her laughter as Emily turned to her with a grin.
“Hmm,” she paused, a fake pensive expression painted on her face, “a hickey, huh? And how’d you get the hickey?”
“I got it from Derek,” you replied if a sheepish voice, bringing your hand up to rub the mark, which was still kind of tender, softly.
“She got it from Derek. What do you think, JJ?”
“I think it’s about time she finally owned up to it,” JJ grinned, turning around so she could finish getting herself ready, “we’re happy for you, you know? We can tell you make each other happy.”
You only sent her a small smile, your cheeks still on fire from the conversation.
“And how can I help you this fine morning, Mrs. Morgan,” Emily teased, her grin widening as you groaned.
“I wanted to see if I could borrow a turtleneck. I even brought you a trade,” you shrugged, holding up the shirt you brought for her.
“Well how could I say no to that face?”
“You mean, how could you say no to the shirt you’ve been trying to steal from me for months?” You corrected, pulling Derek’s gray shirt from over your head and taking the emerald green turtleneck from Emily’s hand and slipping it on.
“You know me so well,” Emily cooed, prompting an eye roll from you.
Later in the afternoon you were stood beside Spencer outside of a crime scene.
“Are you wearing Emily’s shirt?” He asked in a curious voice, surveying your appearance with his inquisitive gaze. “And is that— a hickey?”
