Page 50 of Small Sacrifices

Having a hand on Everett's neck is great because that makes it easier to press himself close, to drag him down so that he doesn't have to lean up as much.

But after a while, Everett seems to get the message.

He presses closer himself, boxing Reid in against the door.

Their kisses grow tacky with saliva, which should be off-putting, but it isn't. Reid enjoys how it makes their lips cling together, the novel sensation it brings.

And then, Everett's tongue flits out to taste his lip.

The feeling shoots through him like hot lightning, making him whimper and break the kiss.

He has enough presence of mind to hold on to Everett so that this doesn't seem like a rejection, but beyond that, he still can't think.

He just wants. Wants to press closer, to open his mouth further and feel more. Taste Everett, maybe.

It hits him then that this would probably be quite the escalation.

That doesn't make him want it any less. But he hasn't seriously considered that yet.

He probably should. At a different time.

There are actual issues that they should be dealing with right now that have nothing to do with how Everett's body feels against his.

"Too much?" Everett asks.

It almost makes Reid laugh. He's pretty sure the correct answer is "not enough". But he's not brave enough to say that. Yet.

"No," he says instead. "But we should get back to this later. We need to talk about what we're going to do about your father."

A deep sigh puffs out against his lips. "Goddamn it, you're right."

Reid's laugh dies in his throat when they untangle from each other and he sees how red Everett's lips are. They're glistening. He averts his eyes to make sure they stay on track.

From the outside, it might look comical how they sit on Reid's tiny little sofa.

They're both pressed up against the armrests to leave some space between them.

But since it's a two-seater and Everett isn't exactly small, said space barely spans a foot.

Reid is tempted to reach across the gap and take Everett's hand—but he has to concentrate. It's probably better not to.

"So," Everett says when they've sat in silence for a bit. "What do you want to do about it?"

Reid groans. "I want to go to the authorities. But I basically have nothing. I left the printouts in the office, and even those aren't worth much without the assessment."

"Do you remember when the email was sent?" Everett asks.

"Sometime late in 2007, if I remember correctly. It was shortly before he announced the project."

A hum sounds from next to him. "Do you know which address it was sent from?"

That he doesn't. But considering that he laid eyes on it in the first place, it must have been from an official address. When he says this, Everett sighs deeply and drops his head into his hands. Which... isn't that reaction disproportionate? Reid asks him what's wrong.

"Nothing." The word sounds muffled. "It's just that... I might have something. And it sucks."

"You might have something?" Out of context, Reid would think he's talking about an illness. But even in context, he's not sure that he's understanding him correctly.

"D'you remember when I told you he gave me his old laptop? And there were still pictures on it? I never looked at the emails."

Oh. Oh, that would be amazing. And ironic. Raymond Mackenzie, felled by his own negligence.

Reid takes a deep breath and sits on his hands to contain his excitement. "And why does that suck?"

"Because then, I'm involved. And I can't be involved. I have to stay with Max. If he found out I leaked something, he could just throw me out and refuse to ever let me see Max again. I can't risk that."

It breaks Reid's heart to see Everett hunch in on himself, already so defeated.

And it hurts to know that there isn't really anything he can do to help, especially since Everett still isn't stating what exactly he's trying to protect Max from.

That makes it difficult to come up with actionable advice.

If that even is something that Everett wants.

Still, Reid feels himself moved to make one small point.

"Please don't take this the wrong way. But he wouldn't be able to keep you away from Max if he was in prison. Unless your mother..."

Everett scoffs. "Our mother won't do anything. That's kind of the problem. But even if you find the assessment, that's not enough to put him in prison. If he got sent to trial, he'd still get out on bail. They're not going to just lock him away. He's too powerful for that."

"And if you tried to fight him for custody?" Reid asks. But he's already got a sinking feeling that Everett is right to be so discouraged.

"If I fight him for custody, he can still cut me off until I win. If I win. And I'd have to reveal a bunch of extremely sensitive information to even attempt that. I don't want the internet to know what slurs my father has called me and for how long."

Right. That's... God. Reid's heart hurts. If his stomach clenches any more, he's going to get a tummy ache. Everett doesn't deserve this. Slurs? That man should not be allowed to be a father, to have custody of children. Fucking hell. Reid just wants to hug Everett and never let go.

"I'm sorry," Reid says.

It's not enough. But it's the only thing he can do right now.

Except maybe not, because Everett is shuffling over to lean against him.

There's a vulnerable gleam in his eyes when he looks up at Reid.

And when Reid carefully loops his arms around Everett's shoulders, he gets a wan smile for his efforts.

They sit in silence for a bit. Reid absent-mindedly strokes circles into Everett's shoulder and thinks.

The mood changed so quickly. Mere minutes ago, they were making out against a door, and now he's trying to cuddle the sad out of Everett.

Or—well. Does this count as cuddling? It does in Reid's book.

In the silence, his thoughts stray back to the moment Everett greeted him at the door. And that brings up an interesting question. "Wait, why did you think that I'd been fired?"

Maybe it's the words that startle Everett, or maybe it's just the interruption of the silence. He sits upright again to look at Reid. "What? Oh, Beth told me."

Officer McNaulty. He can't even remember seeing her on his way out, much less talking to her.

"We really need to talk to Marisol about this," Reid says. "She's much better at strategizing than I am."

Everett groans like a petulant child. "Do we have to?"

Even his big puppy dog eyes are of no use to him. Reid has made up his mind. As tempting as he finds the idea of spending more time alone with Everett, that's going to have to wait until they have a solution to this problem.