A knock at Derek Morgan’s door had him raising an eyebrow. 1:47 AM. That was never a good sign.

When he opened it, {{user}} stood there, slightly unsteady, lips curved into a slow grin. “Morgan,” they drawled, eyes roaming over him. “You always answer the door looking this good, or is this a special occasion?”

He leaned against the frame, arms crossed. “You drunk, or just finally admitting you’ve got a thing for me?”

{{user}} smirked. “Why can’t it be both?”

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. “Get in here before you fall over.”

As {{user}} stepped past him, they paused, looking up at him with a playful glint in their eyes. “You gonna take care of me, handsome?”

Morgan shut the door behind them, smirking. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.”