A/N: Hi friends. My very first one-shot. I hope you enjoy.

The day had gone on painfully slow. The minutes crawled, the case was harrowing and horrifying. But they closed it, and then came the paperwork. Reid pored over the files, hands shaking as the adrenaline left his body. He knew what he needed to do tonight. To shut off, to relax. He thought about it, and a smile came to his lips. Then, he found himself sitting there, smiling like a goof, and wiped the smirk away, fingers trembling. Then came the shame.

He knew, it was not uncommon. Far from it. Thousands of people, if not millions, did it every day. Sometimes more than once a day. And statistically, men more often than women. It was just something people did. Lots felt they couldn't even control it, it was a part of human nature. Natural. Working with your hands, building up to the release...

"Reid."

Reid snapped his head up and out of his daydream. "Yes."

"You almost done with that? I can take it over to Hotch," Morgan said.

Reid seemed flustered for a moment, shuffling the papers and handing them to Morgan with his long, spindly fingers. He sat back in his chair, watching Morgan walk away. For a brief moment, some sick part of him wondered if Morgan did it. He had to, right? How else would he get his release? Then, Reid shook his head. No, no. Morgan had it good. He always had everything going for him: great looks, confidence... And women flocked to him. Morgan would have no need for such a vice.

When Morgan returned, he looked Reid over. "You okay, kid? Here, lemme take you home." Reid nodded once, packing his things with awkward movements. A puppy with paws too big.

"That would be much appreciated. Thank you."

Reid just needed to get home. He just needed to do it. To escape, to relax, to lose his inhibitions and just take care of himself for once.

The drive was mostly silent, save a few questions from Morgan and one word answers from Reid. He was getting antsy. He could feel the desire building and shifted in his seat slightly, adjusting his pants. He drummed his fingers on his knees.

Morgan dropped him off, they said goodbye, and Reid raced up to his apartment. Once inside, though, he took his time. The mood had to be right, or he wouldn't get as much enjoyment out of it.

He carefully slipped off his shoes, pulled off his sweater, and headed for his room.

Door shut, lights dimmed. A hot bath first, just to relax and get him in the right mindset.

The time in the bath was time well spent. The water soothed his sore muscles, and he gently washed himself, getting more and more anxious as the time went on. For a moment, he debated doing it right there in the bath, then decided against it. The bed was more convenient, and he knew he would be exhausted after. He needed a warm, comfy place where he could finish up and pass out in comfortable ecstasy.

After lifting himself out of the bath and drying off, he went back to the bedroom, dimming the lights a little more.

He climbed onto the bed, shimmied out of his pants, pulled off his shirt, and just sat back for a moment. The anticipation was killing him, he could feel his breathing deepen and his heartbeat quicken in anxious impatience. But he needed a minute. Just to get ready.

Once he was, though, he reached into his drawer, pulled out a small box, and sifted through it, looking for what he needed. Once he found it, he began. Slowly, at first, just enjoying the moment. Then the need became more urgent, and he quickened his pace as his hand worked diligently to give him what he so desperately needed.

He pushed the needle through his skin. Nothing, nothing in this world, felt as good as Dilaudid. Not even primal, sex-based pleasure.

The release came. He sat back, panting in the heat of the high. He felt warm, at peace.

So.

Completely.

Satisfied.