Reid and Reid Ship Oneshots

Reid Basiclly Has Reversed OCD

❤️

Spencer Reid often found himself feeling uncomfortable in his skin. Not in a
self-loathing-kind-of-way, but literally feeling itchy and confined in his outermost layer. He never knew what caused this, and it drove him insane. He prided himself on knowing the answers to any questions he was asked, yet he couldn't even answer his own. It made him doubtful of his own abilities as a prodigy and a profiler.
But soon, he found out what external stimuli was causing this. It sounded crazy, and unusual, and odd, and any other synonyms for the word weird, but the thing that was causing him this stress and physical discomfort was when things were symmetrical.
He first managed to see it when a lump formed in his throat as he looked at a perfectly filed cabinet in Hotch's office. Another encounter was when Garcia offered him first pick from a box of donuts and they were all lined perfectly. It made it worse that they were all the same flavor and color.
Reid was kind of ashamed of his unusual anxiety trigger, so he learned to tolerate it. He would just try to not look at it, but it was almost nauseating when he had to.

"Isn't this place nice?" Morgan asked, a smile plastered on his face, never once faltering.

"Mhm." Was all Reid managed to respond with. He couldn't even take his eyes off of the counter. Everywhere he looked was symmetrical tile, or perfect glass bottles, or untouched fixtures.

"It's not a date if you don't talk." Morgan mocked, trying not to get discouraged by Reid's lack of conversation.

He knew Reid was awkward and uncomfortable looking at the BAU, but after working with him for almost four years, he felt he'd better shoot his shot before someone else picked him up. He was attracted to the opposites attract trope that was obviously apparent between the two of them. Reid was an academic prodigy, and Morgan was an all bronze no brains kind of guy. Not to say he wasn't a good profiler; just enjoyed the gym a little too much.

"I'm sorry." Reid looked up swiftly, trying to only look at Morgan and not his surroundings.

"Is a bar not your ideal first date?" Morgan chuckled, masking his growing nervousness.

"No, it's alright. I just don't drink much." Reid scratched his neck, eyes still on Morgan.

For some reason, Morgan's face had no anxiety inducing elements to it. Which was strange considering that it was the generically perfect face. Reid was always scared to look at him, convinced it would cause him to get anxious, but it never did. It ironically had a calming effect.

"I know. But I wanted to bring you here because they have such a nice aesthetic." Morgan pointed past the bartender and at the clear glass bottles that lined the wall, all the same size. "Just look at that. It's beautiful."

Reid knew he couldn't just agree without looking up to see it, but he also knew he wouldn't like it. So he took a risk.

"Can we leave?" He asked, his face displaying obvious discomfort.

"Um, sure?" Morgan complied, a tinge of defeat in his voice.

Morgan lead the two of them out of the bar, noticing how Reid kept his head facing his back.
They walked along the street, the overhead lamps lighting their way, but it still being dark.
Morgan's hands were in his jacket pockets, a bubble of awkwardness surrounding the two of them, but Reid looked guilty more than anything.

"So I guess this date was a bust, huh?" Morgan tried to lighten the topic by lacing it in humor. He rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, returning it to his pocket soon after.

"I'm sorry." Reid squeaked out, almost holding back tears. He was balling the edges of shirt in his fists.

"For what?" Morgan began to worry because of how much shame he felt Reid was emanating. "It's not your fault that you weren't into it. I shouldn't have put that pressure on you."