Reid isn't used to pretending to have a boyfriend. Quite the inverse, actually. He usually spends his days pretending to work and not fantasizing about walking up to Hotch's desk and fucking and sucking him until he's blue in the face instead of the balls.

That said, this situation was ...unique. He knew that as a profiler it was his obligation to oblige, even if it did lead to several awkward photos Garcia snagged and even more awkward looks from Morgan who knew about he and Hotch, and more still awkward looks from a slightly jealous Hotch that Reid could do the 'openly gay' thing so easily- when it was an act and everyone knew it.

Garcia and Prentiss had pounced on the boys, making their metrosexual Morgan look a touch less metro and a grope-more homosexual. Oddly, they left Reid alone, either thinking he was fine as he was or thinking they didn't have anything to work with. Reid didn't ask and wasn't about to, either.

It was the third night in the club- Reid almost looked punched-out with how dark the bags under his eyes were. He'd been pulling back-to-back double shifts between the undercover work and the actual profiling part of the job, but the department didn't have many black cops, and of the ones there, no one was qualified to play gay. Three women, two near-retired, and one so f'ugly that dogs whimpered when they saw him. No, regrettably, there was only one real option- Morgan. Double regrettably, there was no way in hell he'd let his guard down for some stranger he just met to hit on him in a less than hetero way without losing his cool. He had trust issues, so he'd only do this with someone he trusted. Luckily, Reid fit, and he trusted him- double bonus Morgan knew it was a complete act thanks to knowing of his friend's vivid sex-life.

There was a reason he stopped teasing him about being 'virginal' about two years back.

It probably doesn't seem fair that they'll write off wining and dining in swank hotel restaurants near the clubs, or how they got to order several very fine- very fine drinks. Garcia joined them at the club, as they ordered up the top-shelf stock, she'd order just as many virgin versions to swap out and keep them straight in case the bartenders were less than saints themselves.

Reid wished he could be a little drunk, even when dancing with Hotch, he'd never done the moves his best friend was putting on him. Derek 'Soul Train' Morgan was undulating against him and for the sake of cracking this case, he was grinding him right back. His ass had never been so close to another man's junk that he wasn't actually fucking.

And then there was three,Reid was sandwiched between another man, he was darker than Morgan, and in the dim lighting of the club it made it hard to see the characteristics of the man's face, but he was getting hot and heavy for the two. He cupped Reid's cheek and then Morgan grabbed his wrist.

"Back off man, that's -my- baby." Morgan said, continuing back to dry-humping his ass in public, or did that count as frottage? Morgan turned Reid's face to his and slipped a chaste kiss on the lips, flashing the man a look.

Not a 'get lost' look but an, 'interested?' look. The man bit, hard, but not before putting Reid's fingers in his mouth and sucking.

It was the strangest sense he had ever had. Sandwiched between two men, both 'wanting to fuck him' in all the body language. It was intimidating to say the least and Reid was never so forward as to be confident in that situation unless it was with his actual lover.

He let out a whimper, easily confused for a 'begging for it' sound, and the man pulled back and bit his wrist, licking up it as he reached for Morgan's barrel-chest and gently rubbing it to inspire something.

It did, but Morgan didn't want to beat the shit out of an innocent person, so he had to wait.

When the man looked toward the back room, where witnesses had seen the victims get led off to before never being seen alive again, Morgan gave a strong nod.

As the three made their way over there, a woman bumped into them. Prentiss, apologizing and acting like a drunk who just didn't get the meaning 'gay' slipped her hand to Morgan's crotch.

"Wow, you hiding a pistol in there Mister, or are you gunning for someone?" She winked, Morgan just nodded a bit and separated from her.

"Oh you're no fun..." she pouted, turning with her own gun drawn she faced the unsub. "What about you? Do YOU have a pistol on you?"

He attempted to break into a sprint, but Reid clothes-lined him, which, Reid had just realized apparently REALLY HURTS the person doing the clothes-lining just not as much as the guy being clothes-lined.

He crashes to the floor, Reid rolls him on the back and cuffs him while doing a brisk search. He pulls out four zipties.

"My my my, no gun, but you definitely have some tricks up your sleeves." He finds the knife and bags it.

Morgan hoists the man up and drags him out the back door and into the arms of the awaiting LEOs.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

"Placing you under arrest." Morgan said as he shoved the man to the cops.

"What for? Because I had a pocket knife and tie-wraps? Dude, I'm an electrician!"

"We'll see about that, but for now, you're under arrest for assaulting a federal agent."

"What? WHEN?"

Reid juts out his wrist, showing the bite mark.

"Seriously... you're a fed...? I got into the wrong businowww-sssss..." Hotch grabbed his arm and pushed him into the squad car.

"Watch your mouth, you will not speak to my agents that way!" The LEOs nodded, viewing the alpha male's protective nature over his subordinates as admirable, not possessive. Luckily, they weren't the profilers.

Back at the hotel, Reid was cleaning up, rinsing off the sheen of sweat, saliva, and pheromones the past three days had built up on his skin. As he donned his sweats, Morgan knocked, entering his room.

"How's your wrist?"

"It'll be okay, to be safe I'm taking amoxicillin. The amount of bacteria in an adult human's mouth is over one-"

"I don't want to know." Morgan's hand went up quickly cutting his friend off.

When Hotch came in, Morgan rolled his eyes. "And I definitely don't want to see how it's done..." he gave Hotch a look.

"You two seemed to figure that out well enough. Too well, in fact, let's not do this again." Hotch says in a stern, slightly pissy voice making Reid smile.

His face falls deadpan as he looks at Morgan, "Take me, take me now oh my glorious knight."

"Baby I'll ride you like a horse." Morgan said in just as flat a delivery.

Hotch gave a small defused laugh, "Better. Much better, next time- act like that, then maybe the LEOs won't think of using you instead of doing the job themselves. Reid, Morgan, get some sleep- in different rooms unless you want Garcia to have evidence for the 'office affair'."

"Sure thing, I'll just stop by Garcia's room and borrow her bed. Or share." He smiles wolfishly as he steps out.

"Hmm, sharing would be nice, we didn't have a hotel room with all the undercover work we were doing. You wouldn't mind if I used your bed, now would you... Hotch?"

Hotch pulled him into a deep kiss. "That's fine for now. But we'll be heading out soon. When we get back you can use my bed some more too, if you're not too opposed to sharing."

"Sharing -is- caring."

"And I care, do you care?"

"Oh, oh I care... I'll care for an hour straight if you care just right."

"Hmm, I think you need a proper caring to, about eight hours in a night."

Reid's eyes went wide, "I have been up for 3 days straight, if you fucked me for 8 hours I'd probably be bonkers in the morning."

"Alright, I'll settle for 2 hours of 'caring' and then 8 hours of spooning you while you sleep."

Fin.