#hotchreid

“Las Vegas. Ten murders in five days. Five men, five women. All in their twenties to forties. A man and a woman always posed together.” He waits for Garcia to click the remote, the photos on the screen were brutal. Faces entirely mangled. The bodies were absolutely eviscerated. “Local police has informed us that each man and woman killed together had absolutely nothing in common except for visiting the Lightning Strikes Casino the night of their death. Based off the pattern the unsub is predicted to kill again tonight. Because of the escalating violence I’ve decided two of us will be going undercover to lure the unsub.”

Out of the corner of Reid’s eyes he sees the brief shared look on Prentiss and JJ’s faces, both of them assuming they will be forced to go undercover.

JJ opens her mouth to volunteer when Hotch stops her. “I’ve studied the photos of the victims and other personal information, and it seems looks are a large component for our unsub. With each couple looking very similar to the next. As I share the most resemblance with the male victims I will be going undercover.”

Everyone nods, waiting to see whether Hotch will ask JJ or Prentiss. Everyone is surprised when Hotch ignores them both in favor of turning towards Reid.

Hotch sighs, before meeting Reid’s gaze. “Reid,” he starts, tone softer than usual. “The unsub seems to be primarily focused on physical appearance, and JJ and Prentiss don’t quite match the previous victims’s appearances. If we wanted to draw the unsub in our best bet would be to go with a person who has a stronger resemblance.” 

Reid’s face flushes red instantly, “Are you saying you want me to go undercover as a woman?!” He nearly screeches. 

Hotch’s desperation seeps into the air. “Reid I truly wouldn’t ask if there was any other option, but unfortunately there’s not. I would be going undercover with you.”

Reid looks absolutely scandalized, “Prentiss is a brunette is she not?!” He nearly yells. Heart already pounding at the idea of going undercover as a woman, but even harder at the fact that Hotch would be his partner.

Hotch sighs once more, “All these women have been taller 5’10 and had more masculine features. Prentiss doesn’t have those features nor is she as tall as the victims. We have no other options.” 

All of Reid’s protests die in his throat when Hotch says that. He would never put his comfort over a victim’s life. He nods, completely resigned. “I’ll do it.”

Hotch nods in approval. “Good. Wheels up in fifteen. We go undercover tonight so we need to be in Vegas as soon as possible.”

Everyone nods, mumbling various agreements. All of them begin filing out of the conference room, till it’s just Reid and Hotch left.

Reid’s gathering his files when Hotch places a large hand on his shoulder, “Reid I truly am sorry to ask this of you. I promise I won’t let the team tease you too hard.” He said, a rare smile gracing his face.

Reid smiled, “It’s not an issue. Anything for a case right?”

“Anything.” Hotch affirms, his tone slightly more sullen. Reid doesn’t take note of it.

The two men leave, and neither mention the fact that they’re going undercover as a couple.

When Reid arrives on the jet, he’s more than surprised to see Garcia sitting in one of the seats.

“You’re coming?” He asks her, slightly surprised as he takes the seat across from her.

She grins mischievously, “My dear genius there is no way in hell that I am missing seeing you undercover as Hotch’s woman. I already cleared it with Hotch and Vegas PD has anything I should need computer wise. Besides-” Her eyes sparkle dangerously. “I’ve been appointed to help you get ready.”

He laughs nervously, blushing slightly. “I think I can get myself ready Garcia, it shouldn’t be that hard. I do have multiple degrees after all.” He says, trying to deflect from the mortifying situation.

All the women on the plane share a look, and laughter erupts. JJ lays a hand on Reid’s shoulder as she passes by on her way to the restroom. “Spence, I love you. But even as a genius you don’t have a clue about makeup.”

Reid’s face lights up, “Did you know the Ancient Egyptians created makeup around 6000 B.C. and both men and women wore it to appeal to their gods? They’re most known for inventing kohl, which is used as an eyeliner and still in production today. They believed their bright eye makeup protected them from the spiritual “Evil Eye”, and that the kohl protected their eyes from sun damage. While all social classes used makeup the storage containers and applicants for the makeup were used to represent one’s wealth. With the upper class having ones made of ivory or bejeweled-" JJ sighed loudly, “Spence, as interesting as that is I meant you have no experience using makeup. I am confident you know more about the history of makeup than anyone in this room.”

“Oh.” Was all Reid said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I realize what you mean now.”

She laughs, “Don’t worry, you’ve got three women to help. And I’m sure with seven ex-wives Rossi’s picked up a thing or two.”

Rossi rolls his eyes as he takes his seat, having just entered the jet. “It was three wives thank you very much Jennifer.” He shrugs his shoulders, “But I do remember a few things that could help.” 

Soon afterwards Hotch and Morgan enter the plane, and they begin takeoff.

After thoroughly going over the case and discussing the plan for tonight’s operation, most of the BAU had gone to sleep, desperate for a little extra rest.

Reid however, had relocated to the couch, focusing on the book in his lap. To distract himself from the never-ceasing thoughts about Hotch and tonight’s operation.

Morgan, who was also still awake, took notice of Reid’s demeanor, and decided it was time for some friendly teasing.

“Reid,” He whispered, turning to face Reid from his seat.

Reid lifted his head up from his book, “Yeah Morgan?”

Morgan looked completely serious when he asked, “For this case do I need to call you Pretty Girl?”

Reid’s face flushed bright red, “Do not.” He said, looking absolutely scandalized.

Morgan just laughed, “We’ll see about that. I think you’ll make a very sexy lady.”

Reid’s head fell into his hands, book forgotten. “I am begging you to stop.” Hotch opened his eyes, having not been asleep at all. “Morgan stop teasing him. Or I’ll make you stay at the police station.”

Morgan threw his hands up in surrender, “Hey hey now. I’ll stop. No way am I throwing away my chance to see this.”

Hotch sends Reid a pitiful glance, mouthing “Sorry.” While trying to hide his growing smile, Reid just shakes his head.

When they finally arrive at the Las Vegas police precinct, Hotch splits them into two groups.

“Garcia, Prentiss, you two need to find outfits for Reid and I. They need to be high-end, expensive, black tie level clothes. The unsub has been targeting people on the wealthier side. I’m giving you the bureau card. You have one hour.” He said, reaching into his wallet for the sleek black card.

Garcia happily plucked it from his hand. “Will do sir!” She chirped nearly skipping out towards the exit.

Prentiss saw Garcia leave and wrapped up the measuring tape she had been holding, smirking at a very flustered Reid. “Well Doctor,” she grinned, “I have your measurements, we’ll be sure to find you a very well fitting dress.”

Reid glanced down out of embarrassment, “Thanks guys.” An awkward hand began to rub the back of his neck. She noticed, and reached out to grab it, squeezing tightly. “No Reid, thank you.” She grinned, “Never before have I gotten to buy a black tie dress for my male coworker. This is the experience of a lifetime.”

Reid’s face burned from embarrassment, the group around him laughed softly. Except Hotch who remained stone-faced.

“That’s enough Prentiss.” He said evenly, and all teasing ceased. Reid smiled gratefully at Hotch.

The two women left, and the others went back to focusing on the case.

Hotch was sitting at the table, dutifully studying the case files, while Reid stood facing the map, trying to see if he could recognize a pattern. The two men were completely silent.  Hotch was about to ask Reid a question about a location when his eyes dropped lower than they should have. He noticed Reid’s new pants seemed tighter than his last pair. He thought they looked good on Reid.

The silence was broken by a ding from Hotch’s phone, he turned it on to see he had a notification from Prentiss. With his other hand he lifted up his mug of coffee to take a sip.

Prentiss: Do you think we can get away with labeling silicone tits as a federal expense?

Hotch choked on his coffee.

Reid turned instantly at the sound, to see his usually stoic Unit Chief wide eyed and coughing harshly. Reid almost thought that Hotch had a faint blush to his cheeks.

“You okay Hotch?” Reid asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Hotch’s eyes couldn’t help but drift towards the area, slightly disappointed by the flatness of Reid’s sweater vest.

He nodded, quickly regaining his composure, “I’m fine Reid.” His attention went back to his cellphone.

Hotch: Put it on the card.

He thought back to the photos of the victims he had seen before they were murdered. Most of the women had decently sized bosoms, it would replicate the look of them better than a completely flat chest. He nodded satisfactorily to himself. For the case, he rationalized.

They both continued to work again for quite some time, until a knock on the door drew both of their attentions. It cracked open to reveal JJ.

“Hey Spence,” She started, “I need you to come with me, we’ve got to start getting you ready.”

Reid glanced at his watch, “It’s only four. The operation doesn’t start for four hours.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Exactly. Which is why I’ve got to get you ready now.”

Reid glanced nervously at Hotch, “Is that okay Hotch?”

Hotch glanced through the gap between JJ and the door and saw Prentiss and Garcia working with the precinct members, clearly having returned some time ago.

He nodded, his attention already back on his files. “That’s fine. And JJ, have Prentiss and Garcia help you. It’ll make it quicker.”

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “Will do sir.” She winked, and neither Hotch nor Reid understood why.

The three women and Reid entered the hotel room and the women immediately got to work.

“Reid,” JJ started, her voice sharp and commanding. “Go shower and wash your hair. We need to start fresh.”

He scurried to the bathroom instantly. Too afraid of angering the women he assumed would be putting things near his eyes.

Prentiss nodded thoughtfully, “What should we do with it? It’s thankfully long enough to be considered feminine, but do we curl it? I think straightened won’t go with his dress.”

JJ nodded thoughtfully, looking at the dress laid out on the bed. “I’m thinking soft waves.”

Garcia, who had been hunched over a very large makeup bag, shot up enthusiastically, “I know! We’ll do a blowout, like a Victoria secret angel.”

Prentiss smiled wide, “Yes! That’s perfect. You’re a genius Garcia!” She cheered, setting off for the hot tools.

She winked playfully, “Boywonder may be an actual genius but when it comes to our technological world and the fashion industry I’m the one with an IQ of 187.”

JJ laughed loudly, “Careful that you don’t get him interested in it Garcia. All it takes is for him to memorize it one time and you're out of business.” 

“I think I’m safe on the tech part but,” Her gaze shifted to the closed bathroom door where they could all hear water running. “After we get someone’s reaction tonight he might just take me up on a makeup lesson or two.”

The women nodded unanimously. All of them very aware of how tonight’s look would make an impression on a certain unit chief of theirs.

About ten minutes later Reid came out, in a fresh robe and drying his hair with a towel. JJ moved one of the chairs next to an outlet.

“Come here Reid.” She said, plugging in a hair dryer. Reid raised a curious eyebrow, as he normally air-dryed his hair.

“What’s that for?” He asked innocently.

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Are you telling me you have six degrees and you don’t know what a hairdryer is?” She asked, laughing softly.

A faint blush rose to his cheeks, “No I know what it is JJ. I just normally air dry my hair.”

JJ laughed again, “Yeah, male Reid airdrys. Tonight we need to make you a lady. And a blowout looks good on every woman. Now sit.” She patted the seat of the chair expectantly.

Reid sat, and JJ got to work drying his wet hair.

“Emily!” JJ yelled over the loud machine, “Did you get rollers?” She asked.

Prentiss nodded, rifling through a plastic shopping bag before producing what looked like plastic cylinders to Reid. She also had a bag of metal clips in her possession.

JJ thanked her, and began wrapping Reid’s dried hair around the cylinders. Reid didn’t say anything as she did so, just sat quietly reading the book that Hotch had lent him. 

He didn’t notice JJ was done, too enthralled in his book, till he heard Garcia giggling.

He glanced over at her curiously, “What?” He asked.

She clapped a hand over her mouth, “Sorry I shouldn’t laugh. But you remind me of a stereo-typical grandma in a movie.”

He raised an eyebrow till out of practically nowhere she produced a handheld mirror so he could see himself.

He frowns at his reflection. “I look stupid.” He states.

She patted his cheek affectionately, “Trust me it’ll be worth it later when your luscious locks are let down. Now it’s time for makeup.”

Prentiss steps forward, makeup bag in hand, when Garcia stops her.

“Emily my dear, I don’t know if you should be in charge of Reid’s makeup. We’ve all seen your highschool yearbook photo.” Garcia says, reaching for the bag in Prentiss’s hands.

Reid and JJ laugh, while Prentiss just rolls her eyes. “I was a teenager! Besides I do my makeup every single day and I look fine. I’m completely capable of doing Reid’s makeup in a way that’ll appeal to Hotch and not the goth community.” She huffs, clearly not actually upset.

Reid blushes at her comment, clearly taken aback, he opens his mouth to question her about her choice of words but the words fall flat. Appeal to Hotch. Him. Appealing. To Hotch.

Garcia squints teasingly, “I don’t know. I can see the goth in you waiting to turn Spencer into an emogirl.”

JJ swoops in to take the makeup bag from Prentiss, “Both of you look stunning always and do your makeup exceptionally well. But Garcia, Reid doesn’t need to be neon and glittery for tonight’s look.”

Garcia rolls her eyes, “You’re no fun.”

JJ smiles knowingly and turns toward the subject of the conversation. “Spence, would you prefer me to do your makeup?”

Reid nods vigorously, cheeks turning red as the women fought over who got to do his makeup. Morgan was never going to let him live this down.

Prentiss crossed her arms over her chest, smirking knowingly. “With how red his face gets we won’t even need to use blush. Especially considering the character Hotch is going to play tonight.”

“What? What do you mean?” Reid asked, eyes widening slightly at the mention of Hotch.

Prentiss frowns disapprovingly, “Did he not give you a rundown while we were gone? You’re playing a couple yes but the basic script says he’s supposed to be all over you. You flush easily so.” She explains, shrugging her shoulders.

Reid’s eyes widen, “Oh.”

JJ laughs, “Not surprising that you didn’t know he was supposed to act that way. Everything about this operation is so last minute.”

Garcia nods, “Yeah, I’m surprised it got approved so quickly.”

Prentiss shrugs again, “Strauss approved it. Apparently to her it was a “dire” scenario to have them go undercover.”

The women exchange various shared glances, Reid lost in thought over Hotch. They all hoped this operation would finally get them to admit their feelings.No one talks about it any further, and JJ starts on Reid’s makeup.

“Okay Spence, come on. You have to work with us here.” JJ sighs, holding out the lacy piece of fabric.

Reid shakes his head. “I’m already wearing a dress JJ, why do I have to wear-” He blushes bright crimson. “Fake breasts?” 

Prentiss rolls her eyes, “Because if you haven't noticed in your twenty-eight years of being a man, you don’t have them.”

Garcia frowns, “Come on sugarplum. We worked so hard to get you all ladylike, the rest of your body has to match.” Reid rolls his eyes but accepts the item anyways. “This is offensive to flat chested women.” He remarks.

Prentiss shrugs, “They can complain after we’ve caught the unsub and they’re no longer at risk of being murdered by this psycho.”

Reid swallows nervously, “Do I really have to wear those, undergarments, too?”

JJ nods tiredly, “You need a place to put those things don’t you?” She says, gesturing towards the fake breasts Reid is holding. “Besides you’re playing a woman Spence, you have to dress the part. Can’t wear boxers under that dress.”

Reid just sighs and retreats to the bathroom, trying to rid himself of the embarrassment in effort to focus on the case at hand.

The women all wait impatiently, all eager to see the full look.

They had been talking quietly about the recent developments between Hotch and Reid, when they heard the door creak and all heads turned expectantly. 

Reid stepped out, eyes downcast to the ground. All eyes widened instantly.

“Holy fucking shit!” Prentiss exclaimed, jaw dropped.

“Oh my god, Spence.” JJ said, hand on her chest.

Garcia’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head, she started choking on the drink she’d been sipping on. JJ pat her back softly as she coughed.

Prentiss stood up, circling Reid like he was prey and she was a hunter.

“Reid,” She started, eyes moving everywhere, he felt like a piece of meat. “You might just be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen."

He blushed again for what seemed like the millionth time, “You don’t think it's too much?” He asked, hands running down the front of his dress to smooth out a few wrinkles.

JJ scoffs, “Spence you’re the prettiest girl in the room and you’re the only one here who isn’t actually a girl. I mean just look at you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, staring in absolute awe at her handiwork.

Reid stepped into the view of the full length mirror in the corner of the room. Arms crossed over his chest nervously.

His jaw dropped slightly when he saw his reflection in the mirror.

The sparkly red dress fit him like a glove. The large slits on the side revealing long, now completely smooth legs. The top of the dress draped over his fake chest, covering it completely while still highlighting it. He shifted slightly while watching it shimmer. His eyes drifted towards his face. 

He looked like a woman.

JJ had used the makeup to make his features seem feminine instead of masculine. She had defined his eyes, making them look almost sultry. He remembered eyes being described like that in books his mother had read to him as a child, he hadn't understood what it meant till now. 

JJ had also dabbed blush across his cheeks, making him look healthily flushed. She had painted his lips with a red that matched his dress perfectly. He looked pretty. He had never felt pretty before, but standing here all dolled up he felt pretty for the first time.

His eyes drifted towards the straps of the dress, where underneath he could see the lacy hints of fabric. If you looked close enough you could just barely see it imprint under the thin material of the dress.

“Reid you’re such a pretty girl I almost want to dump Derek and date girl-you.”  Garcia added, winking at him while she fans herself dramatically.

“Uh thank you Garcia?” He said, not entirely sure if that was a compliment or not.

“No thank you Reid. I haven't had this much eye candy since I woke up to Derek shirtless and glistening in my apartment.” Garcia replied, sighing dreamily.

JJ giggled at Garcia, before grabbing Reid's wrist to lead him out of the room in the rare chance he changed his mind about the operation. “Come on Spence, we’ve gotta go blow Hotch away.”

Reid raised a curious eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

All the women shared a look and sighed, they were in for a long night. 

Hotch stood in the precinct bathroom, glaring at himself in the mirror. 

He was dressed up, expensive suit and tie. Nice watch. His hair slicked back. Haley would have said he looked handsome. But Haley wasn’t on his mind now, and she hadn’t been for a long time.

He sighs, inhaling deeply. He glances at himself once more, making sure his emotions are wiped clearly from his face. He thinks back to his brief theater stint in highschool, tonight he was playing just another role. 

He exited the bathroom. He was going to find Morgan to discuss his position in the casino, when he stopped dead in his tracks.

The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was standing only a few feet away from him.

He stopped completely. He had to remind himself to breathe, to blink. He could feel his face getting hot. His heart pounded against his chest.

“Hotch? Are you okay?” The beautiful woman asked, now standing directly in front of him.

Hotch looked into her eyes and time nearly stopped because they were Reid’s eyes. His subordinate. His male subordinate Dr. Spencer Reid.

He forced air back into his lungs, straightened his posture, closed his gaping mouth. “I’m fine.” He said, voice rigid.

Reid nodded, but he seemed unsure of Hotch’s answer. “Everyone’s ready.” Reid announced. Hotch just nodded, staring at the ceiling.

Reid walked away, and Hotch’s eyes couldn’t help but follow. He nearly choked again when he caught the almost imperceptible hint of lace underneath Reid’s dress.

A large hand pat him on the back, he turned to see Rossi standing next to him. Smirking.

“That kid sure is something isn’t he?” Rossi asked, smiling knowingly. “Come on Romeo, we’ve got a case.” Rossi walked away too, and Hotch just swallowed nervously. Completely unsure of how he was going to make it through this case.

Eventually everyone had been gathered into their respective cars, and they were on the way to the casino.

The casino manager had offered to rent a car for Hotch and Reid. Arguing it would attract the unsub’s attention as most victims had been on the wealthier side, and no one objected to being driven in a nice car

Rossi was driving, and Morgan sat in the passenger seat, dressed like a bodyguard. Hotch and Reid sat in the back. 

JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia had driven with a few of the officers from the station, dressed in plainclothes to blend in with the crowd.

Morgan shifted in his seat to have a clear view of Reid. Eyeing him up and down appreciatively, Reid turned his head away from Morgan’s line of sight. 

“Will you stop that?” Reid snapped frustratedly, quickly becoming annoyed with Morgan’s constant leering.

Morgan chuckled, “Sorry kid, but I told you you’d be one sexy woman. Have to get a look in before you’re taken.” 

Rossi’s eyes meet Reid’s in the rearview mirror. “He’s right bambino, you do make a very pretty lady.”

Reid blushes hard, and Morgan just laughs again.

“Where’d they get the boobs from?” Morgan asks a moment later, eyes lingering on Reid’s chest. Reid crosses his arms over his chest and huffs exasperatedly.

“Morgan leave him alone.” Hotch orders, but he couldn’t help the quick glance to the man next to him. He looked back to see Morgan smirking knowingly.

The rest of the drive was free from any more comments, and they made it to the casino without issue.

Morgan opened the door for Reid and held a hand out to him. Reid accepted it and stepped out of the car, smoothing his dress down as he stood. 

Morgan pulled out a piece of gum from his pocket, he placed it in Reid’s hand.

“What’s this?” Reid asked. Morgan just laughed.

“Kid it’s bubblegum.”

“Why do I need bubblegum? Why do you have bubblegum?”

“Just trust me.”

Reid sighed, but placed the stick into his purse anyways. Hotch joined him, offering his arm out to Reid. 

Morgan leaned in to whisper into Reid’s ear, “Go get the unsub pretty girl, and maybe tonight you might just get lucky.” He winked, and Reid frowned. Not quite understanding how he’d get “lucky” or what he’d need bubblegum for.

“Okay? Thanks Morgan?” He replied, before turning towards Hotch. “Are you ready?”

Hotch tried not to meet Reid’s gaze, or look anywhere at him really. “Yes. Let’s go.” And the two walked in. The undercover operation beginning.

All eyes followed as Reid and Hotch walked into the casino, gazes unashamedly lingering on the back of Reid’s dress, and the front, and just everywhere.

“Hot damn.” Garcia said to no one, pretending to fan herself.

Rossi just shook his head, “This is going to be hell for Hotch.”

Morgan grinned, “Yeah but we’re going to get a show of a lifetime. Besides, you see all that eye candy? Our eyes are about to have cavities Rossi.”

Rossi nodded in agreement, “He’s a very pretty woman. Had he been thirty years older I would have tried to make him my fourth wife.”

“Now that’s not a sentence you hear everyday about your twenty-eight year old male coworker.” Prentiss said, walking away to find her entrance into the casino, the others parted ways shortly afterwards.

Reid felt eyes on him.

Every place him and Hotch went into the casino he could feel gazes lingering. The attention made him squirm. He wasn’t used to people looking at him like that. He subconsciously curled in closer to Hotch.

Hotch paid no mind to Reid’s tight grip, extremely aware of all the eyes following their every step. It was as if they were on a stage, and everyone was watching.

They approached a booth, and Hotch sat Reid down and quickly followed, arm slung around Reid’s shoulders possessively.

The other men at the table didn’t comment, but he could see. Each one of them had glanced, once, twice, or even three times. Hotch was playing cards, but everyone was focused on his prize.

After a long time of playing cards and quiet chatter, one man spoke up. Hotch had been watching him from the beginning. The man was Jack Burns, a regular at Lightning Strikes and their main suspect.

Jack laid down his hand, “Fold. That’s a pretty little thing you’ve got there.” He commented, his gaze focusing on Reid. Reid blushed slightly. 

Hotch glared at Jack playing into the jealousy act. “I know.”

Jack folded his hands in his lap, “Say now little lady, are you his? Or just for tonight?” He asked, smirking like he already knew the answer.

Some of the men at the table looked uncomfortable. “Jack were trying to focus on the game man.” One of them said, he was in his early forties and balding. Hotch had noticed him to be the only man at the table who looked at Reid just once.

Jack just grinned, “Aw don’t be a pussy Tom. There’s a very beautiful lady in our presence. And I think she deserves some attention don’t you agree?” He leaned forward, resting on his forearms and smiling wide. “Come on sweet thing, say something for me won’t ya? I wanna hear your pretty voice.”

Reid flushed, but opened his mouth to speak. “I’m not interested.” He said. But his tone was so light, and breathy, and sultry Hotch would have thought it was a woman sitting next to him, and not his awkward speaking male coworker.

Jack stared right into Reid’s eyes, “You never answered my question sweetheart. Do you belong to him?”

Reid narrowed his eyes, pouting his lips in a way that sent shivers down Hotch’s spine. “I don’t belong to anyone.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest, drawing attention towards the new additions on his lean frame.

Jack laughed annoyedly, “You know what I mean pretty girl.”

Hotch glares at Jack, “Leave my girlfriend alone.” He snarls.

“Girlfriend? You have a lady as pretty as that and you haven’t married her yet? If she were mine she’d be wed and pregnant by day two. Fucking loser.” Jack snarled, sitting back in his seat.

The other man, Tom, laid his hand down. “Come on Jack, they're just trying to play the game.”

Jack rolled his eyes, “No! This motherfucker thinks he can parade around a pretty little thing and not share? We should let him have it!”

Hotch stood up, yanking Reid up by the wrist. “Re-Renee we’re leaving.” Hotch said, Reid quickly followed.

Jack laughed loudly, “Renee! Pretty name for a pretty girl! Come on now Renee, don't leave us all alone!” Jack hollered.

Hotch guided them to the bar, where they had planned to go after provoking the unsub. Hotch pulled out a chair for Reid and sat down next to him.

“You okay?” Hotch asked quietly.

Reid shrugged, “I’m fine. Is he watching?”

Hotch glanced over Reid’s shoulder, trying not to be distracted by the promise of lace beneath his dress straps.

He scanned the room, Jack was gone.

“The bus has left the station.” Hotch said blankly, focusing back on Reid’s face. Confirmations flooded his earpiece.

Reid nodded, and he leaned forward, brushing his lips against Hotch’s neck. Shivers went down Hotch’s spine, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“He’s behind you, twenty feet.” Reid whispered, before finally placing a kiss on the skin he’d been teasing. 

Hotch sucked in a breath, trying to calm his racing nerves. 

Hotch’s large hands found their place on Reid’s waist, with ease he lifted Reid from the barstool onto his lap. Reid shuddered at the touch.

“Kiss me.” Hotch whispered, Reid froze.

“What?” Reid asked, praying that he’d misheard. He met Hotch’s expectant gaze.

“Kiss me. While he’s watching.” Hotch demanded.

Reid’s eyes flickered down to Hotch’s lips, and the many times he had dreamed of kissing the older man. Before he knew it his hands were in Hotch’s hair and his lips were crashing against Hotch’s.

Hotch’s tongue poked at Reid’s lips, begging for entrance. Reid’s lips parted easily, instantly allowing access.

Both of them lost themselves in the kiss, hands moving and faces smashed together. It was only when Rossi started screaming in their ears did they pull apart.

Both faces were flushed, and they were panting slightly when it finally registered that Rossi was screaming that the unsub had gone outside.

Reid got off Hotch’s lap, pulling Hotch’s arm. Hotch slung an arm around Reid’s waist, hand resting on Reid’s ass possessively, and they went out the same exit the unsub had.

They had only just made it out the door when something hit them from behind. Effectively knocking them out.

The two men are unconscious on a dirty floor, both of them were bound at the wrists and ankles.

Hotch opened his eyes first, quickly surveilling the dark room. It was a bedroom with old wooden furniture and peeling paint. It clearly hadn’t been occupied in years. A bed was made in the corner, an old quilt covering it.

“Fuck.” Hotch muttered under his breath. He shifted onto his side, facing Reid who was just beginning to wake.

Reid’s eyes opened into slits, “What happened?” He asked, very aware of the persistent throbbing in the back of his head.

Hotch sighs, “We were hit from behind. He must have been waiting right at the door.”

“Do you think the team knows?” Reid asks, trying to shift to face Hotch better.

Hotch nods “They surely must. We’ll just have to wait.” He glanced down, surprised to see his watch still on his wrist. He struggled to read the time in the lack of light. “It’s only been an hour.”

Reid nodded and sighed, turning to lay flat on his back.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?” Hotch asked, and Reid noticed the way his tone was different than his usual protectiveness. It carried a wave of unmistakable softness.

Reid nodded, “I think I’m okay.”

Hotch took that answer as the best he was going to get. He hoped Reid only shared the same pounding in the back of his head and nothing more.

Several minutes went by, and the two had silently inched closer together to the point where they were side by side. Reid let his head fall in the crook of Hotch’s neck, and Hotch hadn’t uttered a word of complaint. 

Hotch had opened his mouth to speak when the door slammed open, and both of them instantly focused on the figure in front of them.

The figure flipped the unseen lightswitch on and the room was illuminated, both of them blinked furiously trying to adjust to the light. When they finally did both of them we’re surprised.

Because it wasn’t Jack Burns standing in front of them, the man they had believed to be their unsub. It was his friend who had been at the table, Tom.

“Only been here for an hour and you’re both already cuddled up? You disgust me.” Tom snarled, before walking over towards the antique dresser in the corner.

“Tom what did we do?” Hotch asked, trying to stay in character.

Tom laughed, “You didn’t do anything. She did!” He yelled, pointing a finger at Reid who just looked back with confusion.

“You girls ruin everything! Every time I get close another pretty slut steals his attention! Why am I not good enough? Why can’t he choose me!” Tom cried, slumping down in the chair next to the dresser.

Hotch tried to sit up, “Tom who? Who won’t choose you?” He kept his voice soft, hoping if he could calm Tom down he’d be able to resonate with him.

“Jack!” Tom yells, “He had a girlfriend, Sasha something, and she fucking left him! And I was a good friend! I let him cry, I took him out, I did everything I was supposed to! And the moment I thought he’d finally admit the chemistry between us he found another brunette bimbo! And every time we’ve gone to that goddamn casino he’s found another pretty woman for the night and he forgets about me! What makes them so special? Why aren’t I enough!?” Jack sobs, his head falling into his hands as tears run down his face.

Hotch glanced at Reid and nodded, silently telling him to be quiet. Reid nodded in confirmation.

“Tom,” Hotch started, “Have you been killing these women to punish them?”

Tom looked up and wiped his teary eyes, he smiled proudly. “Yeah. Stabbed every one of those bitches till they bled out. You should have heard them scream man.” He laughed softly as he reminisced.

Hotch tried not to let his emotions show on his face, “Tom, why did you kill the men too?” He asked, hoping Tom wouldn’t question all the details he knew.

Tom stood frustratedly, “They reminded me of Jack. And I saw them! I saw them leering at those whores! Every time I tried to move on from Jack and try someone else they wouldn’t care about me! Because everyone just wants the pretty woman! WHY AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH?!” He screamed. Storming around the room like a madman, till he stopped directly in front of Reid. Reid’s heart pounded against his chest as the man towered over him, glaring with more disdain than Reid had ever seen directed at him before.

“And you,” He spit, “Jack said he’d never seen such a pretty woman in his life, that he’d do anything to ‘get a piece of that’. Then he saw you acting like a common slut over there on his lap,”​​ Tom gestured towards Hotch, “And you know what he told me? He said, “I’d kill to be that guy.” But Jack is a coward! Jack won’t ever go for what Jack wants, and since Jack wants you so bad I’m going to rip you into pieces and shove you into a jar so he can fuck your remains! SINCE EVERYONE JUST WANTS TO FUCK THE PRETTY GIRLS!” He yells, pulling a knife out from his pocket. His hand raised in the air when Reid screamed.

“TOM! TOM I’M A MAN!” Reid yelled desperately, not trying to conceal his male voice at all. Tom froze instantly.

“What?” Tom asked, completely dumbfounded. Reid squirmed beneath him.

“Tom I’m a man! I’m an FBI agent! I’m not a woman at all!” Reid yelled frantically.

Hotch, who had been frozen in horror jumped in. “He’s not a woman Tom, he is a federal agent currently undercover and if you harm him your penalties will increase greatly.” Hotch said, trying to sound stern.

Tom glared at them. Arms crossed cover his chest, and the knife still in his hand. 

“How do I know you’re not just a chick who can do a deep voice? You’re just another lying bitch.” He sneered, raising his knife-clad hand once again.

Reid shook his head violently, “No! No! Let me take off this dress and I’ll prove it to you!” He yelled, desperation leaking into his tone.

By now Tom was curious, so he yanked Reid up by his wrists. Surprising Reid as in once quick motion he sliced the dress down the side, letting it fall off Reid partially. He ripped off the rest of it, dropping it to the floor.

Reid’s heart pounded as he stood, limbs bound and in nothing but lingerie. He couldn’t miss the way both men’s eyes widened. One set of eyes angrily and the other excitedly.

Tom stuck his hand into the structured cup of the top, and Reid nearly fell over as Tom yanked out a silicone breast. “The fuck is this?” He sneered.

Reid blushed furiously, “It’s silicone. I told you, I’m a federal agent undercover. Not a woman. So please Tom, let us go and we’ll them the police you cooperated.”

Tom threw the breast at the wall, “No! Doesn’t matter if you’re a girl or not, you still seduced my Jack! You have to pay for that.”

“Tom I didn’t seduce Jack!” Reid yelled, “You have to understand Tom, he doesn’t want you, but you can’t keep murdering men and women just because you’re mad at Jack!”

Tom grabbed Reid by the shoulder, fingers digging painfully into Reid’s skin. “You fucking bitch!” He said, he pushed Reid so Reid fell over the bed on his front. Tom pinned him down with his weight. Using one hand to yank back Reid’s hair, the other holding the knife to Reid’s throat.

“Let go of him!” Hotch screamed, thrashing against his bonds.

Tom laughed, “You thought you could just fucking waltz in looking like that to seduce my Jack? Well you thought wrong pretty girl. You’re going to get what you deserve you fucking whore you-” 

Reid closed his eyes, held his breath, as he waited for Tom to slit his throat. But as suddenly as the man had him in his grip, a loud noise was heard and the pressure was gone and Reid could hear a thud behind him.

He turned, absolutely stunned, to see the door open. The BAU standing there guns raised. Tom laid still on the ground, blood pooling from the back of his head.

Reid stood frozen. He had thought he was going to die. He thought he was going to be the reason Hotch died.

The room seemed to stand still, no one moved or spoke for just a few seconds, and then the were snapped back into reality.

JJ immediately went towards Hotch, cutting him free from his restraints. Morgan had stood next to Reid completely flustered, till Rossi sighed and shrugged off his FBI jacket. Wrapping it around Reid’s barely clothed frame. It was after that when Morgan finally snapped back into action.

Paramedics entered the room, instantly attending to the two agents. The body was removed. Hotch and Reid didn’t look at each other.

Morgan ended up guiding Reid into a car, after being cleared by paramedics. JJ followed with Hotch shortly afterwards.

They had closed the car doors. Leaving the two men in the backseat of the car. A police officer stopped JJ and Morgan to ask them a few questions, after a few minutes it was just JJ and Morgan outside the car.

Morgan pulled JJ a few feet away out of Hotch and Reid’s view, to finally speak the thoughts plaguing him.

“Did you see that?” Morgan started, “They didn’t even look at each other.”

JJ shrugged sadly, “They were nearly just killed Morgan.”

Morgan dragged a hand down his face exasperatedly, “I know, I know. How badly do you think this will fuck them up? They were so close to admitting their feelings.” JJ glanced towards the car, where she could see Reid resting his head on Hotch's shoulder. Hotch’s arm protectively laid over Reid. She watched Hotch press a kiss to the top of Reid’s head. She smiled softly.

“I think they’ll be okay, as long as they have each other.” She said, before turning back towards the car, sliding into the passenger seat.

Morgan shook his head and sighed, before getting into the driver’s side and pulling out of the driveway. At least the case was closed.

The door closed behind them, and Hotch and Reid were alone in the car.

It was silent. The air was thick, tension radiated off them in waves. Reid didn’t dare utter a word. Hotch most likely hated him after this, after all he’s the reason they were nearly killed.

The car’s air conditioning is on blast, Reid shivers. Rossi’s jacket doing nearly nothing to protect him from the cold, the piece of clothing is so thin and worn.

Hotch notices Reid’s shiver, his hand ghosts in the air for a second, as if he were about to rest it on Reid’s bouncing knee. He begrudgingly returns it to his side, much to Reid’s dismay. “You okay?” He settles for instead.

Reid nods quick, “I’m fine. Just cold.”

Hotch’s eyes trail down Reid’s body, Rossi’s jacket was only so long on Reid’s tall frame. The profiler in Hotch instantly catalogs the age of the clothing. The fabric is so thin and worn he’s half wondering if the jacket’s been in the BAU longer than he has.

He shrugged off his suit jacket, draping it over Reid’s lap. “Here.”

Reid flushed, “You don’t-you can keep your jacket. I’m fine.”

“You’re cold.” Hotch stated, entirely emotionless. “I’m hot. Two birds one stone Reid.” Hotch finished, leaving no room for argument.

Reid smiled sheepishly, “Uh okay, thanks.”

Hotch nodded. “Of course.”                             

Another moment of silence passed. Hotch kept his gaze entirely off of Reid, focusing on the view out of his window.

Reid’s heart hammered as he stared at the back of Hotch’s head. Hotch must have been so angry he couldn’t even look at Reid.

Reid panicked, he couldn’t have Hotch hate him. For fuck’s sake he was just about to tell Hotch that he liked him before they got assigned on this operation.

“I’m sorry!” He blurted, heat spreading to his face in embarrassment. Slowly, Hotch turned to face him, eyebrow raised.

“Sorry? For what Reid?” Hotch asked.  Completely confused as he tried to keep his eyes on Reid’s face, and not the promise beneath.

Reid’s head fell into his hand. “For everything,” He muttered, “I messed up the case. I nearly got you killed. I’m sorry.”

Hotch’s eyes narrowed, “Reid what on earth are you talking about?” He asked, absolutely bewildered.

Reid just shook his head, “Hotch I’m sorry.”

Hotch sighed, “Reid, there’s absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything, I don’t understand why you’ve suddenly brought this up.” He dragged a hand over his face. “Reid if anyone should be apologizing it should be me. I let him nearly assault you all because I was too mentally-” he swallowed, Reid swore he could see a faint blush on Hotch’s cheeks, even in the darkness. “-distracted. You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s me who should apologize.”

Reid crossed his arms over his chest, guilt transitioning into confusion. “But I-” “Stop. This isn’t your fault. Neither of were harmed. Case closed. That’s an order.” Hotch interrupted. Reid made a face, when Hotch leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair out of Reid’s eyes. “You had hair in your eyes.” He stated, hand not retreating.

Reid leaned into the touch, Hotch’s palm shifting to cup Reid’s jaw. “Why were you distracted earlier?” He asked innocently.

Hotch froze, before breathing deeply, eyes locking with Reid’s. “Because of you.”

Reid’s eyebrows rose in confusion, “Because of me?”

Hotch nodded, laughing softly. “You cant seriously have thought that looking like that wouldn’t have had an effect on me.”

“Why would it have an effect on you?” Reid questioned, sounding almost annoyed. “You know I’m not a woman, Hotch.” Reid huffed.

Hotch kept his voice steady, “I didn't say you were. And to answer your question, it had an effect on me because I like you Spencer.”

Reid froze, “What?” He said, for once in his life his mind was blank and he couldn’t answer the question in his brain.

Hotch brushed the pad of his thumb over Reid’s cheekbone. “I like you Reid. I’ve liked you for a long time. Even since I was with Haley, and I think you’re beautiful Spencer,” He was testing the waters. Using Reid’s first name, and based on the fact that Reid hadn’t objected, he was going to keep doing it. “And I’ll admit. Seeing you tonight unlocked something primal in me that I had never thought I’d feel for another person again."

Reid was overcome with emotion, he wasn’t used to being desired. He had no idea of how to respond to his boss’s confession, other than the fact that said attraction was completely reciprocated. Reid decided for once he didn’t need words to explain facts, and he used his lips instead. Attacking Aaron Hotchner’s mouth with one very surprising yet very welcomed gift.

Hotch threaded his hands through Reid’s hair, pulling him closer. He loved the way Reid kissed him, so unsure, so unconfident, yet full of reckless passion. Hotch could tell he wasn’t the first person Reid had kissed, but he knew in that moment he’d be damned if he wasn’t the last.

He pulled away, letting them heave for air. Hand still on Reid’s face, tenderly cupping. When he said, “I want you Reid. All of you.”

Reid smiled softly, “I want you too Hotch.”

Hotch uncharacteristically grinned wide and Reid thought the smile looked nice on the generally stoic man, 

The silence between them melted into understanding and Reid let instinct take over. Eyes fluttering closed as his mouth inched closer to Hotch’s till their lips met once more.

When they parted, Reid chose to rest his head on Hotch’s shoulder, as JJ and Morgan were returning from their conversation with the officer.

When they were on the road, mere minutes away from the hotel Hotch lowered his head next to Reid’s ear. “I know you’re not a woman,” he started, voice so low it sent an unusual chill down Reid’s spine, “But tonight you’re mine pretty girl.”

Reid nodded, not caring at all. He was Hotch’s. “I’m yours.” He affirmed.

Hotch’s hand found Reid’s, squeezing firmly.

By the time they finally pull into the hotel, Reid feels like his skin is on fire. Hotch’s touch burns him. Electricity courses through them like they’re powerlines.

Reid feels faint. He glances toward Hotch, and the profiler in him can see Hotch’s carefully crafted composure falling apart, they’re coming undone.

Morgan pulls in and Hotch already has his seatbelt unbuckled. “Reid isn’t feeling well, we’re going to sleep early tonight.” Hotch states the moment it’s safe to get out of the car.

Morgan whips his head around, “Kid did you get injured? I’ll take you to get checked out now.”

Reid’s cheeks go hot, he can feel Hotch’s eyes drilling holes into the back of his skull. Hotch clearly doesn’t have much patience in the moment, and honestly neither does Reid.

Reid shakes his head, “No Morgan, just overwhelmed. I uh-I think I’ll be fine in the morning.”

JJ frowns sadly, “Sorry Reid, we’ll check on you later okay? Text me if you need something.” She said.

Reid nods vigorously, “Okay, thanks guys. See you bye!” He and Hotch rush out of the car, practically running to their hotel room. Out of the corner of his eye Morgan thinks he sees Hotch carrying Reid bridal style.

JJ turns to Morgan, both of them still have their seatbelts on. “Did they just-?” She starts, sentence stopping as blue eyes widen knowingly.

Morgan laughs, “I think so JJ.”

She shakes her head, “They’re going to be insufferable after this.”

Morgan shrugs, reaching forward to turn the ignition off. “I think it’ll be good for them. After all who doesn’t love a little hidden workplace romance?”

JJ laughs, “Don’t you know it Morgan.”

Both of them eventually return to their respective rooms, awaiting Garcia and Emily. Wouldn’t you know, everyone does love a hidden workplace romance. Even though Garcia and Morgan had been out to the team awhile ago, thanks to their incessant filthy flirting which was ten times dirtier than it had been when they were just friends. Morgan desperately hoped karma wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass when Hotch and Reid revealed the status of their relationship. He truly did not need to know all the soon to be dirty details that would be waiting for him. 

In the elevator Hotch and Reid were all over each other.

Hotch had Reid’s legs wrapped around his waist, back pressed to the elevator wall. Reid wanted to interrupt the hot and heavy make out session to supply the data on elevators and bacteria, but he kept those facts to himself this time.

Hotch pulled away, breathing harshly. His eyes met Reid’s, so full of lust it made Reid blush. Hotch ran a hand through Reid’s soft hair, “You’re so pretty.” He mumbled.

Reid was about to speak, when he suddenly heard the elevator doors opening, and a voice on the other side. Hotch and him shared a half second glance, and Reid was standing next to Hotch not touching at all within a moment. 

When Prentiss walked in, pressing the button for the floor above theirs, neither man dared look at each other.

Prentiss leaned against the wall as the doors closed once more. She glanced at them both, deciding not to comment on their disheveled appearances. 

“You guys okay?” She asked, she watched them both flush ever so slightly.

“Mhm, all good.” “We’re fine.” Reid and Hotch said, at nearly the exact same time. She nodded, satisfied with their answer.

“Good. I called the pilot after you left. He’s coming early tomorrow, Strauss needs to go over the case files with us. So set your alarms.” She smiled halfheartedly, both men nodded.

“Will do.” Hotch said, as he spoke the doors opened again, “Goodnight Prentiss!” He yelled as he yanked Reid’s arm, nearly running out of the elevator. Prentiss’s laughter echoed in the distance.

Reid frowned as Hotch dragged him, “You didn’t let me say goodbye.

Hotch looked back before stopping, which surprised Reid. He quickly hoisted Reid over his shoulder, eliciting a yelp from him. “Can’t wait any longer Spencer. She’ll get over it.”

They were at their room within seconds, thanks to Hotch running down the hall like a madman. He already had the key out, too impatient to wait any longer.

He set Reid down on his feet in the entryway of their room. He locked the door behind him, and the air in the room shifted. Hotch looked at him like he was hungry. And Reid was a gourmet meal.

“On the bed. Now.” Hotch ordered. Reid complied, shedding Rossi’s jacket as he made his way.

Hotch followed, already beginning to shrug off his suit jacket that he’d put back on when they exited the car. “A shame he ruined your dress, that was supposed to be my job.” Hotch spoke. Hands already reaching for his tie, Reid watched from his place on the bed.

“Pretty girl.” Hotch muttered as he stepped closer. Reid blushed, turning his flustered face away from Hotch.

“Spencer,” Hotch began, “Are you okay with this?” 

Reid turned his head once more, wide brown eyes meeting Hotch’s. He nodded. 

“Yes, please.” He nearly whispered, instinctively batting his eyelashes.

Hotch lurched forward, his lips meeting Reid’s as his hands cupped the back of Reid’s head. 

Reid felt completely insane. Heat radiated throughout his body. His skin felt on fire. Aching for Hotch’s touch. The lace pieces still on him burned, he hadn’t ever felt like this before. So electrified.

Hotch pushed Reid down onto his back gently. He broke the kiss, pausing to softly stroke Reid’s cheek before sitting up. He removed his shirt, tossing it behind him. His hands went to his belt buckle next. Reid went to remove the rest of his own clothing, when Hotch grabbed his wrist.

“No. I’ll do it.” Hotch said firmly, and Reid wasn’t going to go against his boss’s orders. He laid still as Hotch finished getting himself undressed. Just watching. Waiting.

Hotch shimmed out of his pants, nearly naked now. He let his hands roam over Reid’s body. The feeling of lace rubbing against his skin made heat rush to his groin, knowing that in some way Reid had worn the ensemble for him.

“Pretty pretty girl.” He murmured, lowering his head to suck on Reid’s neck. He smiled against the skin when Reid gasped, the sound was music to his ears. 

Reid's brain, which normally never stopped, for the first time went almost completely silent. Except for one singular word. Hotch! Hotch! Hotch!

“Hotch,” Reid moaned loudly, “More!” He begged, Hotch quickly obliged.

As Hotch’s lips worked masterfully on Reid’s neck his hands went elsewhere. With one hand he unsnapped the hooks of Reid’s bra. He sat up, eager to see what lay beneath. 

Reid lay motionless, as Hotch removed the lacy article. Hotch ran his hands over Reid’s smooth chest. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Hotch muttered, Reid could feel Hotch’s growing erection pressing against his thigh 

Reid’s skin burned with pleasure, but Hotch’s hands were simply not enough. He needed more.

“Hotch, please.” Reid whimpered, eyes shut tight as the sensations washed over him.

Hotch smiled as Reid writhed beneath him, “Please what pretty girl? Please fuck you?”

Reid nodded vigorously, “Please.” 

Hotch was never one to question orders.

He leaned down to capture Reid’s soft lips, his tongue poking for entrance. Reid gasped, letting him in.

His hands stayed busy, trailing down the sides of Reid till he found what he was looking for. Fingers hooked on the sides of Reid’s panties, he began to pull them down. Reid’s hips bucked up, easily giving Hotch access.

He slid them off in one simple motion, tossing them into the air behind him. Hotch grinned, he had Reid completely bare for him. 

Reid whined again, the noise completely unintelligible but a clear call for help only Hotch could provide. 

Hotch took his time prepping Reid, ensuring he wouldn’t hurt him. He grinned as Reid keened beneath him on only his fingers. 

He leaned in next to Reid’s ear, “Are you ready for me sweetheart?” 

Reid nodded, “Please please please Hotch. Need you.” He whined.

Hotch obliged, lining up his fully hardened cock with Reid’s entrance. In one breath he thrusted in. Reid screamed at the sudden intrusion. With that, Hotch began a quick pace of thrusting in and out, Reid moaned high pitched and loudly.

Hotch kept one hand on Reid’s hips, the other running through Reid’s soft hair. He fisted a lock of hair, he yanked it roughly, enjoying the dulcet whimpers he elicited.

“Good girl.” Hotch grumbled, voice low with desire.

Hotch chased his release as Reid bucked his hips beneath him, both of them lost in euphoria.

Reid kept gasping and whimpering beneath him, Hotch opened his eyes. His vision having previously gone white with pleasure. He was surprised to see tears streaming down Reid’s face. He slowed his pace instantly, gently pulling out.

He cupped his hands around Reid’s jaw, wiping the tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Spencer? Spencer, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asked, worry creeping into his tone.

Reid opened his eyes, and he smiled softly. His pupils dilated with pleasure. “Aaron.” He moaned, his hand rubbing up and down Hotch’s chest. His arms eventually wrapping around Hotch’s neck, pulling Hotch’s lips down onto his.

Hotch bit Reid’s lip, the scream Reid released sent shivers of pleasure down his spine.

He repeated the process again, thrusting in and out till they were both screaming from pure pleasure. They lost themselves in euphoria, both chasing release.

Hotch came inside Reid, Reid following suit mere seconds later. Hotch collapsed atop of Reid, both of them panting and gasping for air.

Hotch regained his breath, before rolling over onto his side, using one arm to roll Reid over so they were spooning.

“Spencer, I think I love you.” Hotch spoke quietly, like he was afraid Reid would reject him. Reid opened his eyes, his body still tingling with pleasure. 

Reid opens his mouth to speak, when a sharp bang is heard from the other room, both men share a curious glance, before Reid speaks again.

“Aaron, I love you too.”

Hotch leaned over to press a delicate kiss on Reid’s lips, “Pretty girl.” He muttered against Reid’s skin. Reid’s arms wrapped around his neck and they lost themselves again and again and again.

The next morning, the BAU plans to meet in the hotel lobby. Four out of seven members look very refreshed after a full night’s sleep, and three look like they didn’t sleep a wink.

Prentiss and Morgan had brought two trays of coffee from the shop next door, seeing the rest of the group already together they quickly rejoined.

They stood there for a minute, listening in on the current conversation, when Prentiss suddenly interrupts.

“Rossi did you sleep at all last night? You look absolutely exhausted.” Prentiss questions, instantly cataloguing the deep bags under his red eyes.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious my dear Emily.” Rossi deadpanned, he sighed. “And to answer your question, no. I didn’t sleep at all last night. The couple next to me was going at it, all night long. I don’t think they took a break for more than ten minutes. It was insane, the woman was so loud. I could hear her moans and whines for hours. The man was even worse though. God you’d thought he was a dog the way he kept barking and growling.” He sighed deeply, dragging a hand over his tired face. “I kept banging on the wall but they were too busy banging to hear me.”

Prentiss frowns “Sorry Rossi. Hey you two,” She turns to face Reid and Hotch who seem almost embarrassed. “You’re were on Rossi’s floor weren’t you? You both look exhausted, did those people keep you up all night too?” Her eyes hold a glint of mischief that neither man wants to address.

Reid nods nervously, “Yeah um, they were really, uh loud.” Reid stammers, hand rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. Hotch’s deadpan stare is enough of an answer for everyone.

Rossi nods sympathetically, “Ugh, my poor bambino. We deserve our beauty sleep uninterrupted.”

Reid blushes, when Morgan quickly cuts in. “He’ll be fine Rossi, Kid is pretty enough to miss out on some ‘beauty sleep’. You however should go take a nap or five.”

The crowd erupts with laughter, as Rossi makes some vague halfhearted threats. Morgan just grins. No one comments as Hotch pulls on Reid’s cardigan sleeve, guiding him closer till they’re side by side. No one dares mention how Hotch’s arm wraps around Reid’s waist or how Reid’s leaning in. They understand something sacred has happened, and they’ll be dammed if they get in the way of some well deserved happiness for the two.

The team leaves the hotel, all of them pleased with another case solved quickly. None of them mind the fact that they’re all squeezed into one bureau issued car due to budget cuts.

Morgan is driving, but instead of taking the mapped out road, turns into a different path. Pulling into the police station they’d been in only hours ago.

He parks the car, as one of the officers from the day prior greets Morgan from the driver’s window. He hands Morgan an object that Hotch and Reid can’t see from the third row. They hear Morgan thank the man and then he’s turning back onto the road. 

Morgan hands the object to Rossi, who in turn throws it all the way into the back row, just nearly missing hitting Prentiss and JJ’s heads.

The object lands in Hotch’s lap, to which he realizes it’s an evidence bag.

Morgan glances at him from the rear view mirror, “The local police wanted you to keep it.” He says, giving no hint whatsoever.

Hotch raises a curious eyebrow, he glances at Reid who looks just as perplexed. He unseals the brown paper bag and holds it upside down over his lap, confused when a ball of red fabric lands on him. He discards the bag, before picking up the fabric watching it unfold to quickly realize it’s the remains of Reid’s torn dress from last night.

His face flushes instantly as he drops the item into his lap, “I-what?” He starts, completely flustered, out of the corner of his eye he could see Reid burning red beside him.

Rossi shrugs from the passenger seat, "Local police wanted you to have it as a thank you for a case well done. They thought you could fix it up and put more use to it then letting it collect dust there. I however strongly suggest not doing that when you’re sharing a wall with me.” Rossi sighs.

Hotch and Reid’s eyes meet each other as the team’s laughter rings out behind them. Despite the embarrassment both smile. The perks and disadvantages of being surrounded by experienced profilers.

Hotch rolls his eyes at his team’s increasing teasing, loving the way Reid’s blush deepens with every joke and kissy noise. He leans forward, capturing Reid’s lips in a searing kiss to silence the childish torment surrounding them. He smiles satisfactorily against Reid’s lips when the teasing instantly ceases.

He pulls away, leaving Reid dazed and slightly delirious. He meets Morgan’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “It was kind of them to save the dress,” Hotch starts, "But it would have been more helpful for them to have purchased new lingerie.” Shouts and hollers ring out at the scandalous comment. Reid smacks his arm. Hotch just smiles amidst the sudden chaos. He loves Reid, and Reid loves him, and he is going to love tormenting his team with his new and improved sex life.

The air smelled faintly of pumpkin spice from the candles Garcia had lit earlier, mixed with the lingering scent of coffee that always seemed to permeate the office, no matter the hour.

The team had cobbled together this “party” after wrapping up a grueling case that had kept everyone on edge for days. It wasn’t much just some snacks pilfered from the break room, a playlist of cheesy Halloween tunes courtesy of Emily, and Garcia’s infamous punch bowl, which she’d spiked with something fruity and deceptively potent.

“Just a little Halloween magic to loosen up those profiler brains!” she’d declared with a wink, her cat-ear headband bobbing as she ladled out cups. You hadn’t argued; after the week you’d all had, a bit of levity was welcome. The alcohol had worked its way through the group, turning stiff shoulders into relaxed slouches and tight-lipped smiles into genuine laughter.

You’d dressed as a classic witch for the occasion a fitted black dress that hugged your curves without being too revealing for the office, complete with a pointed hat that you’d tilted at a jaunty angle and a broomstick prop you’d leaned against your desk early on. It was simple, fun, and far less elaborate than Garcia’s full-on fairy godmother ensemble, complete with glittering wings and a wand that lit up.

Spencer had surprised everyone by showing up in a remarkably accurate Sherlock Holmes outfit a tweed coat, deerstalker hat, and a magnifying glass he kept fidgeting with, as if examining invisible clues on the bullpen floor.

He looked endearingly out of place, his lanky frame swallowed by the coat, but there was a spark of excitement in his eyes that made him seem more alive than usual.

Aaron, had gone for minimal effort, which suited him perfectly. A black vampire cape draped over his impeccably tailored suit, and he’d tucked a pair of plastic fangs into his breast pocket, flashing them only when Garcia begged for a photo. “I’m undead, not unprofessional,” he’d quipped dryly, earning a round of chuckles. It was odd seeing him like this, the stoic unit chief with his guard down just a fraction, the lines around his eyes softening in the warm light.

The night had unfolded in waves of easy camaraderie. Morgan had dominated the dance floor (or what passed for one in the bullpen), pulling Emily into a ridiculous Thriller routine that had everyone in stitches. Rossi shared stories of Halloweens past over a glass of his “special reserve” scotch, his voice rich and animated.

JJ had brought in homemade treats ghost-shaped cookies that her kids had helped decorate and she’d spent most of the evening texting updates to Will, her smile soft and content. Garcia flitted around like a benevolent spirit, refilling cups and snapping selfies with anyone who stood still long enough.

But as the clock inched past ten, the energy began to wane. The playlist looped back to Monster Mash for the third time, and people started trickling out. Rossi left first, clapping Aaron on the shoulder with a knowing wink and a half-empty bottle tucked under his arm.

“Don’t stay too late, kids. Even vampires need rest.”

JJ followed soon after, hugging everyone goodbye with apologies about bedtime routines. Morgan dragged Emily out the door, promising “real drinks at a real bar,” their laughter echoing down the hallway.

Garcia was the last to go, shoving one final cup of punch into your hand with a mischievous grin. “For the road or the office, whatever. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She blew kisses and bounced away, her wings catching the light as the door swung shut behind her.

Now, the bullpen felt cavernous, the remnants of the party scattered like autumn leaves: empty cups, crumpled napkins, a forgotten witch’s hat (not yours) on the floor. It was just you, Spencer, and Aaron left, the three of you lingering in that post-party haze where time stretches and conversations turn introspective.

Spencer was perched on the edge of your desk, his long legs swinging idly as he launched into one of his signature rambles, the deerstalker hat pushed back on his head.

“You know, the origins of Halloween trace back to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain,” he said, his voice animated despite the slight flush on his cheeks from the punch. “It marked the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter, a time when they believed the veil between the living and the dead thinned. People would wear costumes to ward off ghosts animal skins and heads, originally. It’s fascinating how it’s evolved into this commercial holiday with candy and plastic pumpkins.”

You leaned back in your chair, sipping the last of your punch, the warmth spreading through your chest like a gentle fire. “And here we are, warding off unsubs instead of spirits. Though Garcia’s punch might summon a few hangovers tomorrow.” You laughed, the sound light and unburdened, the alcohol making everything feel a little sharper, a little more vibrant.

Aaron stood nearby, arms crossed over his chest, the cape still draped over his shoulders like a forgotten accessory. He wasn’t one for small talk, but tonight he seemed content to listen, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched you and Spencer banter.

The punch had softened him, too his posture less rigid, his dark eyes warmer in the low light. “Garcia does have a knack for potions,” he agreed, his voice a low rumble that carried a hint of amusement. “But I think we’ve all earned it after this week.”

Spencer nodded enthusiastically, nearly knocking his hat off. “Absolutely. Did you know that the average American consumes about 3.4 pounds of candy on Halloween? That’s roughly 1.5 billion pounds nationwide. Imagine the sugar rush.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Spence, only you could turn a party into a statistics lesson. But yeah, this was nice. Beats staring at case files.”

Aaron glanced toward his office door, up the short flight of stairs that separated his space from the bullpen. It was a subtle barrier, a reminder of hierarchy, but tonight it felt less imposing. “The music’s giving me a headache,” he admitted, rubbing his temple lightly. “Why don’t we move this somewhere quieter? My office has actual chairs that don’t squeak like these do.”

Spencer hopped off the desk with surprising agility, adjusting his coat. “Yeah, good idea. I could use a break from the looping playlist it’s like auditory torture after a while.”

You stood, grabbing your cup and following them up the stairs, your steps feeling light and buoyant from the alcohol. There was something electric in the air, a subtle shift that you couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it made your skin tingle with anticipation.

Aaron’s office was a familiar sanctuary: the large wooden desk piled with neatly organized files, shelves lined with law books and a few personal touches a photo of Jack, his son, grinning from a soccer field; a worn leather briefcase in the corner.

The couch against one wall looked inviting, plush and rarely used for anything but late-night crashes during cases.

Aaron flicked on the desk lamp, casting a warm, golden glow over the room that chased away the sterile fluorescence of the bullpen. He gestured to the couch.

“Make yourselves comfortable.” Spencer claimed one end, sinking into the cushions with a contented sigh, his legs stretching out. You took the middle, close enough to feel the heat from his body but not invading his space. Aaron pulled up his desk chair, positioning it across from you both, and loosened his tie with a practiced motion, the fabric whispering against his shirt.

For a while, the conversation stayed easy, meandering through the night’s highlights. You recounted Morgan’s dance moves in excruciating detail, mimicking his exaggerated Thriller zombie shuffle until Spencer was doubled over laughing, his hand clutching his side.

Aaron shared a rare anecdote from his own past a college Halloween party where he’d dressed as a lawyer, complete with briefcase, only to realize everyone else was in actual costumes. “I spent the night explaining I wasn’t being ironic,” he said, shaking his head with a self-deprecating smile.

The punch kept the words flowing, the alcohol stripping away the usual filters. Spencer mentioned the mandatory bureau seminar on workplace boundaries they’d all endured last month, his eyes rolling dramatically behind his glasses.

“That was the most awkward hour of my life. We’re profilers we read people for a living. But suddenly, we’re all sitting there pretending we don’t know what ‘inappropriate conduct’ means. Like, ‘Don’t hug your coworkers too tightly’? Garcia would be fired on day one.”

You giggled, the sound escaping before you could catch it, your hand covering your mouth. “Exactly! ‘Keep it professional.’ As if we don’t share life-or-death moments every week. Garcia hugs everyone within an inch of their lives, and no one’s complaining.”

Aaron leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, the cape slipping off one shoulder. His eyes met yours, holding them for a beat longer than necessary, a spark of something unspoken flickering there.

“Some lines are worth blurring, though. Off the clock, when it’s just…us.” His voice was steady, measured, but there was an undercurrent of warmth, an invitation that made your pulse quicken just a fraction.

Spencer shifted beside you, his knee brushing against yours in a way that felt deliberate, though his face remained the picture of innocence. “Yeah, like playing games that aren’t in the handbook. Truth or dare, for example. That’s not covered in any seminar.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning to look at him. Spencer was usually the one to deflect personal questions with facts or change the subject entirely. But tonight, with the punch buzzing in his veins, he seemed bolder, his eyes bright with mischief. “Truth or dare? In Hotch’s office? Bold move, Spence.”

Aaron didn’t miss a beat, his gaze shifting between you two with that analytical intensity he brought to everything. “Sounds like a recipe for HR nightmares.” But he was smiling that rare, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made him look years younger. “Though I suppose what happens off the clock stays off the clock.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, the alcohol making you feel reckless in the best way. “We’re all adults here. What’s the harm in a little game to wind down? It’s not like we’re profiling each other… or are we?”

Spencer glanced at Aaron, and something passed between them a quick, almost imperceptible nod from Aaron, a shy but excited grin from Spencer.

It was fleeting, but you caught it, and it sent a curious thrill through you. Were they… in on something? The thought lingered, mixing with the warmth in your chest.

“Alright,” Aaron said, his voice taking on that commanding tone he used in briefings, but softened around the edges, more intimate. “I’ll start. But remember, anyone can tap out at any time. No pressure.” He directed his question at you first, his dark eyes locking onto yours.

“Truth or dare?”

The room seemed to hold its breath. You felt a flush creep up your neck, but it was exciting, not uncomfortable. “Truth,” you said, opting for safety to start.

Aaron’s smile deepened slightly. “What’s the most unprofessional thought you’ve had about someone on the team?”

Straight to the heart of it. No easing in. But his tone was kind, encouraging, without a hint of judgment. Spencer leaned in a little closer, his curiosity evident, his breath warm against your shoulder.

You bit your lip, weighing your words, but the punch loosened your tongue. “Okay, fine. I’ve… wondered what it would be like to kiss Spencer. He’s got that adorable, awkward charm that just draws you in. Like, would he quote statistics mid-kiss or something?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deep pink, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he adjusted his glasses, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Really? Me?”

You nodded, laughing softly to diffuse the tension. “Yeah, you. Don’t act so surprised.”

Aaron nodded approvingly, his expression unreadable but not disapproving. “Good answer. Honest. Your turn now.”

The game picked up from there, the questions and dares starting light but gaining depth with each round. You dared Spencer to do his best impression of Morgan, which had him puffing out his chest and drawling, “Pretty boy, hand over the magnifying glass,” in a terrible accent that left you all in hysterics.

Spencer turned to Aaron with a truth: “What’s the one bureau rule you’ve bent the most?”

Aaron thought for a moment, his fingers drumming lightly on his knee. “Probably the one about not getting personally involved in cases. But you all know that.” His eyes flicked to Spencer, then to you, something heavier in his gaze.

When it circled back, Spencer chose dare for Aaron. “Kiss me,” he said, his voice steady but with a nervous edge, his eyes meeting Aaron’s without flinching.

The room went utterly still. Your breath caught in your throat, the air thick with anticipation. Aaron didn’t hesitate, didn’t question it. He stood smoothly, crossing the short distance to the couch.

Spencer tilted his head up, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, a mix of nerves and desire in his expression. Aaron cupped his face gently, his thumbs brushing along Spencer’s jawline with a tenderness that contrasted his usual stoicism. He leaned down, their lips meeting in a soft, exploratory kiss.

It started tentative lips brushing, testing then deepened as Spencer responded, his hands coming up to grip Aaron’s shoulders, pulling him closer. A low hum escaped Spencer, vibrating against Aaron’s mouth as their tongues met, slow and deliberate.

You watched, transfixed, heat blooming in your core. It was beautiful, intimate, the way Aaron’s hand slid into Spencer’s hair, guiding without forcing, and how Spencer’s body relaxed into it, submissive yet eager.

When they parted, both breathing a little heavier, Aaron’s eyes were darker, pupils dilated. He straightened but didn’t move away, his hand lingering on Spencer’s cheek for a moment. “Your turn,” he said to you, his voice rougher than before, laced with something primal.

“Dare,” you whispered, your heart pounding.

Aaron’s smile was slow, knowing. “Join us.”

You didn’t need more encouragement. Leaning in, you kissed Spencer first his lips soft and warm, tasting faintly of the fruity punch and something uniquely him, like books and coffee.

He responded immediately, one hand tangling in your hair, pulling you closer with surprising confidence. His kiss was eager, exploring, his tongue tracing your lower lip before delving deeper.

Then Aaron was there, his hand gently turning your face toward him. His kiss was different firmer, more dominant, his mouth claiming yours with a controlled intensity that made your toes curl.

One hand cupped your neck, thumb stroking your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine. Spencer watched, his breath coming in short bursts, his hand still on your back.

The game blurred after that, the lines between truths, dares, and desires dissolving in the haze of alcohol and attraction. Dares turned to touches Spencer’s hand sliding tentatively onto your thigh, his fingers tracing light patterns that made you squirm.

Aaron’s fingers brushed Spencer’s collarbone, unbuttoning the top of his shirt with deliberate slowness.

Questions became whispers: “Have you ever thought about this with us?” from Aaron, his voice low and soothing, directed at both of you.

“Yes,” Spencer admitted, his voice breathy, his eyes flicking between you and Aaron. “More than once. With both of you. It’s… it’s been a fantasy.”

“Me too,” you confessed, the words tumbling out. “Seeing you two together like that… it’s hot.”

Aaron stood then, pulling Spencer up with him in a fluid motion. “Then let’s make it real,” he said, his tone firm but gentle, always the leader. “But only if you’re both sure. We can stop anytime. No judgments, no regrets.”

You both nodded, the air charged with consent and excitement. Aaron guided Spencer to his knees in front of the couch, where you remained seated, watching with wide eyes.

“Show her how good you are, Spencer,” Aaron murmured, his hand in Spencer’s hair as he unbuckled his belt with the other.

Spencer’s eyes met yours, a mix of shyness and determination shining through. He looked up at Aaron with reverence, then focused on the task.

Aaron’s pants slid down, revealing his hardening arousal. Spencer took him in hand first, stroking slowly, his touch confident despite the flush on his face. Then his mouth followed lips wrapping around the tip, tongue swirling in lazy circles.

Aaron groaned softly, his head tilting back slightly, hand tightening in Spencer’s curls. “That’s it, pretty boy. Just like that. Take your time.”

You shifted on the couch, your dress feeling too constricting, thighs pressing together to ease the ache building between them.

The sight was mesmerising Spencer’s cheeks hollowing as he took Aaron deeper, his movements rhythmic and devoted. He was submissive to Aaron, following the gentle tugs on his hair, the quiet praises falling from Aaron’s lips like rewards.

“Good boy, Spencer. You’re making me feel so good. Look at her watching you she’s enjoying the show.”

Spencer’s free hand reached for you, sliding under the hem of your dress, fingers tracing up your thigh until they found your panties. He teased the edge, then dipped inside, circling your clit with expert precision. You moaned, the sound escaping unbidden, your hand clutching the couch cushion.

“See what you’re doing to her?” Aaron said, his voice like velvet over steel. “Keep going.”

Spencer’s rhythm faltered only slightly as he multitasked, his fingers delving deeper, circling your clit you while his mouth worked Aaron. The dual sensations watching them, feeling Spencer’s touch had you arching, your breaths coming in gasps.

Aaron pulled back eventually, his chest heaving, eyes dark with need. “Enough for now. Your turn to feel good,” he said, his gaze locking on you.

He knelt between your legs, pushing your dress up to your hips with careful hands. Spencer moved to sit beside you, his lips finding your neck, kissing the sensitive skin there as Aaron hooked his fingers in your panties, sliding them down your legs slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Beautiful,” Aaron murmured, his breath hot against your inner thigh. He leaned in, his tongue tracing your folds in a long, slow lick that made you shudder. “Taste so sweet. Relax for me.”

Spencer whispered in your ear, his voice husky. “You like that? Aaron’s mouth on you, making you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your hand threading through Spencer’s hair as Aaron’s tongue delved deeper, sucking gently on your clit. Pleasure built in waves, coiling tight in your belly.

Aaron’s hands held your thighs open, his touch firm but soothing, his hums of approval vibrating against you. His fingers easily slipping into your cunt and finding that spot that makes you see stars.

Your head falls back in pleasure as both men’s hands work at you. Spencer’s hand cupped your breast through the fabric of your dress, thumb circling your nipple. “You’re so responsive. Come for him. Let us hear you.”

The orgasm crashed over you like a wave, your body trembling, moans spilling from your lips as Aaron lapped you through it, his tongue gentle now, drawing out every aftershock. “That’s it, good girl,” he praised, lifting his head with a satisfied smile.

They helped you stand after, hands steady and reassuring. Clothes came off in a slow, deliberate strip your dress pooling at your feet, Spencer’s coat and shirt discarded, revealing his lean, surprisingly toned frame.

Aaron’s suit followed, his body strong and commanding. Their touches were polar opposite Spencer’s fingers tentative but eager on your skin, Aaron’s confident and guiding.

Aaron directed Spencer to lie back on the couch, pulling you astride him. “Ride him,” he instructed you softly. “Show me how you take him.”

Spencer blushed but guided you down, his length. Already achingly hard and leaking at the tip, He held your hips filling you inch by inch as you sank onto him. He groaned, hands tightening on your hips. “God, you feel amazing. So tight.”

“o-oh god” You whimpered, the feeling of spencer filling you up was something you never thought would happen but always did wish.

You rocked gently at first, finding a rhythm, the fullness making you moan, your hands resting on his chest, Spencer thrust up to meet you, his dominance emerging fingers digging into your skin, guiding your pace.

“That’s it, take what you need. Ride me harder.”

Aaron watched, stroking himself lazily, his eyes hungry. Watching how you moved on spencer. Watching how spencer reacted. Blushing and moaning as he looked up at you.

Then he joined, not being able to wait any longer. Aaron wanted to try something kneeling behind you on the couch. “Ready for more? For both of us?”

You nodded, breathless. “Yes. Please.” were you nervous of course. But you could tell with the way Aaron’s hand ran over the swell of your ass he was trying to relax you. And it worked.

Spencer stilled as Aaron prepared you fingers slick with lube from his desk drawer he’d grabbed earlier stretching you carefully, soothingly. With one finger…then two. “Relax, we’ve got you. Breathe through it.”

The initial pressure was intense, but Aaron’s voice grounded you. “You’re doing so well. Feel how full you’re going to be.”

He entered slowly, Pushing in only half to begin with. His cock thick and long the sensation overwhelming two of them inside you, stretching, filling. You moaned loudly, a keening sound, your body adjusting to the double penetration.

“Shh it’s okay…Feel good?” Spencer asked, his hands stroking your sides.

“So full… so good,” you whimpered, starting to move tentatively. The fullness was still overwhelming but both men’s hands on you soothing you made it better.

“Fuck,” Spencer groaned, feeling Aaron through the thin wall separating them. “I can feel you both…”

They found a rhythm Aaron’s thrusts deep and controlled from behind, Spencer’s responding beneath you. Dirty talk wove through the air Aaron’s “Such a good girl, taking us both like this. You’re perfect for us,” low and encouraging. Spencer’s “You’re squeezing me so tight, Feels so good.”

Aaron deep and steady, Spencer snapping his hips up to meet you. Their hands were everywhere Aaron’s on your breasts, Spencer’s gripping your ass, guiding you down harder.

Pleasure built to a fever pitch, your cries echoing in the office as another orgasm ripped through you, clenching around them. Shaking with the intensity.

“Fuck—just like that. Look at you,” Aaron growled against your neck. “Taking us both so perfectly. Our good girl.” he groaned as he felt you clenching around spencer and subsequently him, His hands on your waist as he continued to thrust into you.

Spencer’s voice was wrecked. “So tight… you’re squeezing me so hard… gonna come inside you soon—”

Aaron let out an affectionate laugh but was cut of by a groan as his release followed after a few more thrusts. He held you tightly to him. His forehead coming down to rest on your shoulder.

The quiet in Aaron’s office was profound after the intensity, broken only by the soft sounds of breathing slowing, bodies shifting on the couch. You lay between them, your head on Spencer’s chest, Aaron’s arm draped over your waist from behind.

The air smelled of sweat and sex, mingled with the faint pumpkin spice from outside his office door a reminder of the party’s innocence compared to what had just transpired. No one spoke for a long moment, content to bask in the warmth, the connection.

Spencer was the first to break the silence, his voice soft and a little hesitant, true to his nature. Talking fast and nervous “That was… incredible. I mean, I’ve read about poly dynamics in psychology journals, but experiencing it is different. The endorphin release alone—”

Aaron chuckled, the sound rumbling against your back. “Reid, not everything needs analysis right now.” But there was affection in his tone, his hand squeezing Spencer’s shoulder over you.

You smiled, tracing lazy patterns on Spencer’s skin. “He’s right, though. It was amazing. I didn’t expect… this. But I’m glad it happened.”

Aaron pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Me too. We’ve all been under so much stress. This was a release we needed.” His voice was calm, reassuring, the leader even in intimacy.

They helped you dress eventually, hands lingering, touches turning affectionate rather than heated. Spencer buttoned the back of your dress with careful fingers, his eyes meeting yours with a shy smile. Aaron straightened his tie, watching you both with a fond expression. The office felt different now less a workspace, more a shared secret.

As you all headed out, locking up behind you, the bullpen was dark and empty. “See you Monday?” Aaron asked, his car keys jingling.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Spencer said, and you nodded, the promise of more hanging in the air.