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“But one mustn't underestimate the primal appeal—to lose one's self, lose it utterly. And in losing it be born to the principle of continuous life, outside the prison of mortality and time.” - Donna Tartt
“Saddle up heroes, this one’s a weird one,” Garcia says as photos load up on the screen. “Last week in the Bay Area in lovely San Francisco, at a tech company’s annual office party, things went buck wild. I’m talking public nudity, public sex, fights, and a shocking twenty-two accounts of sexual harassment or attempted sexual assault.”
There’s a shared sense of worry that circles the table at such a strange event. The photos are a series of mugshots, as well as some photos from the party, presumably before everything went sideways.
“I don’t think we’re dealing with an annual meeting of serial creepos, I’ve checked the backgrounds on all the attendees, and besides one childhood peeper and two domestic violence raps, any criminal history is decidedly of a non-violent, non-sexual nature. A lot of the people were model citizens by all accounts. There’s also the fact that of the twenty-two would be perps, ten of those were women.”
“That’s definitely unexpected,” JJ says.
“Can we assume they were dosed with something?” Hotch asks.
“They tested all the food and drink at the party, nothing. Their tox screens, however show a wacky cocktail, primarily MDMA, several amphetamines, and some plant extracts like ginseng and icariin, which is found in a plant known as ‘horny goat weed’.”
Reid raises his eyebrows, because that is wacky, but it also reminds him of something he’s been researching, an academic curiosity that has held his interesting.
“Maybe there was ecstasy at the party, but it was laced with something else,” JJ suggests.
“I think I know what the unsub is trying to achieve,” Reid says, before anyone can add validity to the idea. The rest of the team look on expectantly.
“I do need to go through some background, but it’s relevant to the case. It’s call secondary sex theory,” Reid says, to the gathered BAU, as they sit in the round table room. “It posits that in the distant past of the evolution of humans, we’re taking late Pliocene epoch, humans, or our closest ancestors to what would be humans, possessed additional sex characteristics.”
Its as simple an explanation he can give, even though it’s not exactly correct to describe any species pre-homo sapien as human. Reid is used to simplifying theories – his team aren’t stupid by any means, but a lot of the time the wealth of information he has just isn’t relevant or helpful to the case at hand.
“My money’s on two penises,” Rossi says, to a round of suppressed smirks. Hotch doesn’t rise to the bait, and shoots Rossi a stern look before nodding at Reid to continue.
“Actually, a penile knot, similar to canines, and the potential presence of a functional womb amongst biological males are the main characteristics that have been studied. There’s new evidence that also suggests the potential for sperm production in this ancestor species’ biological female, though there hasn’t been a consensus yet on the viability of the theory amongst evolutionary biologists yet.”
“This is all fascinating,” JJ says, not sounding all that fascinated, “but we clearly didn’t keep this stuff when humans evolved.”
“No, while these reproductive specifics might have evolved to benefit the species in certain ways – and it’s interesting, actually, how our ancestor species is believed to have once had a convergent evolutionary track to canis lupus, our earliest companion species – it’s largely believed that these reproductive features were lost in favour of our currently reproductive system, which must have provided evolutionary advantages for us.”
“Good history lesson,” Rossi says, “are we getting closer to the point?”
“Almost there,” Reid says. “Now, it’s been documented that humans have retained some of the latent features of this secondary sex theory. There are certain tribal groups in Africa who have been documented being able to induce these out of dormancy with certain plants or chemicals. It’s also a belief in the potential to unlock this primal sexual capacity that underpins a lot of the trade of rare animal parts like rhino horn as aphrodisiacs, though typically this is due to a general misunderstanding of Chinese medicine.”
“Okay, but I know this secondary sex stuff gets labelled with alpha, beta, omega,” Morgan says, brow knitted as he watches Reid. “Like wolves and dogs. Having an alpha works for training a domestic dog, but that ain’t how pack dynamics actually work.”
“Yes, you’re right, the idea of a singular pack alpha, an alpha wolf, is based on the study of wolves in captivity, and likely muddied by the studies that have been done of tribal culture of these practices where the convergent similarities to wolves have formed part of the cultural narrative, and the ideas have become mainstays in the public understanding of wolf behaviour, and wolf pack dynamics.”
“So if the many trashy romance novels I’ve read have a grain of truth in their naughty, naughty fiction,” Garcia says matter of factly, “a beta is someone who doesn’t change when they’re exposed to the convenient potion or drug, an alpha becomes a top shelf hound dog, and an omega gets overcome with the desire for an alpha to mate with.”
The table sits in awkward silence for a few seconds, before Morgan lets out a low sound like “woof” that in any other context would be understood as a reaction to a lot of new, strange information, but here, he groans when he realises his slip and the table gives in to their laughter.
“Okay,” Hotch says, having managed not to laugh but hiding the last of a smile, “We’ve had our fun, let’s bring this back around to the case.”
Reid tucks his hair behind his ear sheepishly, because it was funny, but the case is decidedly not.
“An MO like this, there’s almost certainly going to be another incident. The unsub could be working up to a large-scale event,” Rossi says.
“Are we sure this is the first?” JJ asks. “We should potentially canvas places where this type of incident might have gone under the radar, maybe swingers events or interactions with sex workers.”
“We should check out the gay scene in the Bay too,” Morgan says. “Bathhouses might also be a prime potential testing group.”
“We’ll decide on a game plan on the jet,” Hotch says. “Wheels up in twenty.”
---
“It’s kind of boring,” Morgan says.
Prentiss and Reid both look over at Morgan from where they’re studying copies of the unsub’s manifesto, which has just been sent to the media and spread fast. The police station has been abuzz with the specifics of the case, the local cops throwing around jibes about alphas and omegas.
“Boring?” Prentiss prompts.
“So this drug he’s made, this mix of chemicals to unlock a latent feature of human evolution, that’s impressive, right?”
“It’s definitely indicative of a skilled scientist, yes,” Reid says.
“Even the detonation device, the move from a manual spray bottle to something bigger shows that the guy’s got skills. But the manifesto is dull. It reads like a Luddite manifesto, anti-technology, all this ‘returning to a simpler time’ stuff.”
“You’re right,” Prentiss says, tapping the print out. “It’s like he’s just repurposing the misogyny we’d see in something like this, replacing it for alpha-omega sentiment. Alphas rule the world, omegas know their place. It’s lazy.”
“So the previous incidents have shown a rate of below twenty percent impacted by the catalyst,” Reid says. “So if he’s working up to a big event like he’s outlining, he needs large scale target.”
“He’s been staying local, we’ve got to find potentials nearby,” Prentiss says, as she gets out her phone. “Releasing his manifesto might mean he’ll go for a target at a smaller scale than he intended, if the original big event was a football game or something else we profiled.”
She sets the phone to speaker on the table.
“You’ve reached the oracle in her batcave, how can I help my best bat-folk?”
“Garcia, what kind of events are going on in San Francisco today? Look at things with expected attendance in the thousands.”
“Well, there was meant to be a forty-niners game on Saturday, attendance expected at over fifty thousand, but it got cancelled after the manifesto got out to the media. A lot of event have actually, but there’s still some people – businesses, that think their events trump the safety of people, same old. I’m no profiler, but if I put money on it, I’d say we’ve got two possible contenders. A music festival, twenty thousand likely to attend, and a tech conference in Silicon Valley, ten thousand.”
“Is the music festival outdoors?” Morgan asks. “His drugs will be less effective there. The tech conference location got an aircon system?”
“Oh yeah, top of the line Steranko-derived security too.”
“He’s gonna blend in,” Morgan says, “the technical security won’t matter, if he’s gonna hit the conference he’ll be on the guest list, he just has to bypass security guards.”
“Okay, I’ll run through the attendees, see what I can find. I’ll hit you back ASAP, crime fighters!”
“I’ll call Hotch, see if he can meet us there.”
The conference building is crowded with people milling around at booths and stalls, apparently at complete ease despite the warnings all over the news about a potential chemical attack. Fluorescent lights glare overhead with some strobes for effect, and the background techno music creates a rhythm to the cacophony of noise through the hall.
“There’s so many dudes talking into hands-free devices we blend right in,” Morgan says over their earpiece comms, as they slowly make their way around the conference, trying to spot the unsub.
“Are we definitely sure this is his fallback, since the baseball game was a bust?” Reid asks. “Tech guys don’t really profile as alphas.”
“All these tech firms have a charming sociopath at the top,” Prentiss says. “There’s enough potential alphas here for the unsub to cause a scene, at least by his logic.”
Reid moves through the crowd inconspicuously; while his penchant for waistcoats often has him standing out in a police station in a way he’s come to embrace – he’s going to be clocked as different as soon as he opens his mouth, he may as well enjoy it – the choice blends in with the crowd milling around the tech expo.
“Think I’ve got him,” Morgan says quietly. “Service corridor from the conference rooms, squirrelly guy with a suspicious bag. Think he’s going for the aircon system.”
Reid and Prentiss head to join Morgan and catch up to him; he must be keeping his distance from the unsub, judging when to make a move.
“We’re here,” comes Hotch’s voice over their comms. “Check in.”
“We’re in pursuit,” Morgan says. “Evacuate the conference centre, if we can’t stop this guy this building’s going to be a fever dream.”
They still don’t know his name – every location they tracked was under a false name, and he didn’t even use his own name on his manifesto – which was the only thing they had to go on and make the call that he’d be here. Often it’s easy to forget that profiling is guesswork, skilled, experience-led guesswork, but sometimes it really does feel like they’re just getting lucky.
“Stop,” Morgan says firmly, as they round the door to where the unsub is inspecting the ventilation room, device in his hand.
“Don’t come any closer!”
The unsub is white, with brown hair, average weight, average height, just like they’d profiled. He’s dressed in a poorly fitted suit and hair slicked back, looking like someone trying to be someone they’re not, just like they’d profiled. His stare has settled on Morgan.
“Why are you trying to stop me? Don’t you know what you could have, as an alpha?”
“Nothing I want,” Morgan says. “You haven’t killed anyone, but you’ve put people in danger. Put the device down, don’t make us shoot you.”
“Do you want her?” the unsub says, looking at Prentiss. “You could have her. Or him.” He looks at Reid. “An omega knows their place, they know they have to service you.”
“What’s the play here, man?” Morgan says. “Turn people feral so you’re finally a romantic prospect? Because we found your notes, we know you’re not affected, that you’re a beta.”
“Shut up!”
There’s a secondary trigger on the device – Reid realises it too late, distracted with glancing at Morgan, at the set of his jaw and the clear distaste for the insinuations the unsub is making.
The device activates and a cloud of vapour begins to pour out of it. Prentiss has already moved, closing the door and trapping them all inside; it’s the right call. Better just them, better than he didn’t manage to get it into the ventilation system.
It’s a strange takedown – with the device pouring out a cloud of chemicals of which they can only be certain the MDMA will definitely impact them, and not right away, the unsub lets Morgan cuff him without further incident, nodding along to his rights.
“Unsub’s in custody,” Reid says into his earpiece. “But we’ve all been exposed.”
“Hazmat’s on the way, stay put.”
---
The only real test for whether they’ve been affected by the cocktail of drugs carried by the MDMA is observation, so Hotch makes the call for them to isolate at their hotel, under strict orders to stay in their rooms.
“It seems to pass through people’s systems in under twelve hours,” Garcia says. She’s called Morgan first, but she’s already said she’s doing the rounds. “How’re you feeling?”
“Great,” Morgan says truthfully. “But pretty sure that’s just the ecstasy.”
“We know he’d been lowering the dose of the MDMA as a carrier, it’s probably not even a party dose.”
“Well that’s good, because I ain’t having a party.” He sighs, and tugs at his collar. He’s feeling hot, but again, he’s pretty sure it’s the ecstasy, Prentiss and Reid are probably feeling the same way. Prentiss joked about enjoying her ‘government forgiven’ high as they made for their separate rooms. Reid…
“Baby girl,” he says. “Make sure you tell Reid getting drugged isn’t falling off the wagon. He knows it in theory, but he might need reminding.”
“I will, you leave it to me.”
“Thanks, mama.”
Morgan has taken ecstasy before, a couple of times in college; the first time by accident, the next couple of times on purpose. Here, the effect is familiar – he feels warm, and happy; he should be somewhat stressed about being dosed by a suspect, but it’s almost as though that stress just isn’t accessible right now. He turns on the TV to find a music channel, and takes off his shirt. His skin comes up in goose flesh as it meets the cooler air of the room, his nipples immediately hardening. He touches one experimentally, and it feels so sensitive, eliciting a gasp from him.
Which all tracks with a party drug like MDMA, so it’s fine. He toes off his shoes and sits on the edge of the bed, absently palming the stirring of his cock through his trousers.
He wonders what Prentiss and Reid are doing as they ride out their high, maybe they’re feeling the same kind of creeping heat he is, maybe they’re also turning over the possibility of relief in their minds. He imagines Reid pressed along his back, the feel of his hard cock lined up against his backside. He imagines Prentiss’ hair stuck to her forehead as she pins him down, flush going all the way down her neck, towards—
“Shit,” he says, deliberately taking his hands off himself. He feels dirty suddenly, academically he knows it’s not the worst thing in the world to picture someone naked in the privacy of his own head, but the images feel visceral, carnal in a way that feels wrong. Prentiss is his friend, and even if Reid is something more it doesn’t just feel like this is horniness in the realms of ecstasy any longer.
Morgan gets on the floor and does ten sit-ups. Even if it is more than the MDMA affecting him, he can work through it. There’s no reason for him to have to give into some prehistoric mating drive that he doesn’t understand – except that he’s still hard after twenty five sit-ups, and he does understand it. He’s done his reading for this case, he’s checked out the studies Reid suggested, he’s imagined what it might feel like for his cock to swell with a knot as he fucks into Reid.
Except, as he throws himself onto the bed and humps uselessly, that’s not what he wants. He wants to be fucked, which he’s all but gotten over his baggage with and Reid has fucked him plenty, but there’s a meeting of wills whenever they do, some balance to the thing. Now all he can think about is what it would feel like for Reid to hold him down, to stretch him open, to claim him.
Suddenly, being alone in the hotel room feels like being caged, like it’s a fundamentally incorrect world state to be alone now. He pulls his shirt on but forgets his boots, and leaves his hotel room, hurrying down the hall.
He smells Prentiss first, her scent invading his nostrils. He comes to a standstill outside her door and breathes in, considers what would happen if he stopped here. But the image of her doesn’t come like it did earlier, even bidden, because there’s a stronger pull, a stronger scent coming from further down the hallway. He nearly sprints towards it, knowing it’s where he has to be.
He bangs on the door with an open palm.
“Reid. Reid.”
He knows the moment Reid is the other side of the door because he can smell him. It’s nothing like the strange smell descriptions in Garcia’s smutty novels, it’s how Reid smells when they fuck but somehow sharper, keener, somehow completely flooding his sense like he’s drinking it.
“Morgan, go back to your room,” Reid says from the other side of the door, voice strained.
“Pretty boy, I can smell you,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to the wood. “Reid, please. Let me in.”
“Morgan I can’t, I’m reacting, it’s not safe.”
“Baby, please,” Morgan whines. There seems to be no room in his brain for shame any longer.
“If I let you in, I’m going to fuck you, Morgan,” Reid says through the door. “I think—I think, whether you want me to or not. So please leave.”
“I want it, Reid, let me in, please. I need you to fuck me, I need you.”
He can hear Reid panting on the other side of the door, he can smell him like his scent is rolling off him in waves, knowing somewhere in an increasingly quiet part of his mind that his body is making this choice for him.
“Alpha,” he whispers, lips almost against the wood of the door. “Please, alpha.”
Morgan practically falls through the door when Reid opens it, surprised for a moment and then moaning loudly when Reid presses him against the closed door, crushing their lips together in a fierce kiss. Reid licks into his mouth, large hands spread around his neck to direct Morgan, to take control of the motion.
“Wait, wait,” Reid pants, pressing their foreheads together. Morgan’s hands are already pulling Reid’s shirt open. “What if I can’t stop, I’m not in control—”
“Yes you are,” Morgan breathes, trying to push forward to re-establish the kiss. Reid actually growls, as he holds Morgan in place by the neck against the door. “You’re in control, I’m yours. I’m yours, Reid.”
“Mine,” Reid says, just before he claims his mouth again.
The urge to get fucked isn’t new; Morgan likes it, and Reid is good at it, but the thing it’s all tied up in this time, the urge to submit completely, is something new. He lets Reid direct everything, from the depth and intensity of the kiss, to the speed at which they undress.
There’s one a moment of clarity he needs, when Reid is undressed, as he licking a stripe up Morgan’s neck.
“Reid, Reid, let me see—”
His cock looks painfully hard, an almost angry red-purple; no bigger than usual, but more intense somehow, balls heavier, veins straining, and oh, damn – there is definitely the beginning of some new swelling just above the base.
“Fuck, Reid, fuck, yes, I want you, I want it.”
“Get down,” Reid commands, and Morgan sinks to his knees on the hotel room floor. It somehow feels right, feels natural to bend over, to brace his arms on the floor and bow his back, lifting his backside, to present himself to Reid.
Reid kneels behind him, presses two fingers into him, and Morgan keens for how easy it is, no pain or effort, his body giving into it’s evolutionary capability, making him ready in a way he would never achieve without this heat.
“You’re so wet, Morgan,” Reid says, voice gravelly with desire. He half-expects some expansion on why, how he could possibly be a cis man by all accounts and be wet, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Reid presses a kiss to the top of his spine as he seeks Morgan’s prostate with well-versed fingers. “Are you ready, omega?”
Morgan pushes back as those clever fingers leave him, quickly replaced by the blunt head of Reid’s cock. He slips inside easily, pressing in until Morgan feels the resistance of what must be Reid’s knot. He grinds himself back until the knot pops inside, making Reid gasp.
“Morgan, fuck—”
His grip is bruising on Morgan’s hips as he pulls back, and the next time he pushes forward the knot feels bigger. Morgan needs it, needs to be fucked on it until it’s stuck inside him, and Reid obliges, meeting each of Morgan’s thrusts, each time the knot pulls out with a wet pop Morgan feels a rope of precome dribble out of his cock where it hangs hard and heavy between his legs. Reid’s cock is the same size as it’s always been, but with the knot Morgan feels so full, so absolutely stretched in a way that should be scary or at least intimidating, but it only feels good and right to be so absolutely overtaken by Reid, by his alpha.
When Reid tries to pull his knot out and can’t, Morgan practically howls with the pleasure of it, and comes hard, without a single touch to his cock. Reid presses his hips tight to Morgan’s backside, gasping as he comes. Morgan can feel Reid’s knot pulsing inside him, and the way the sensation feels like it’s hosing down a fire inside of him is as sordid as it is apt.
“It’s not over,” Reid says, a little softer now, some of the edge gone quiet. “I’m still hard.”
“It’s okay,” Morgan says. He feels incredible, nearly sated, if not for a sensation somewhere behind his navel that makes him thinks the need is building there again. “Read the studies. Gotta wait it out or fuck it out.”
“We’re not competent right now,” Reid says, as he guides Morgan onto his side to save his knees. Immediately he begins to touch around where their bodies are joined, pressing Morgan’s stretched, sensitive hole.
“Maybe, but it’s okay,” he says again. “Wanna be with you.”
Reid’s knot has shrunk enough that it pops out as he repositions Morgan onto his back, his legs over Reid’s shoulders. Morgan fusses, being empty feels wrong as the need, the burning builds again. He clings to Reid’s arms, trying to ask for something he can’t articulate. It’s frustrating, when words usually come so easily to him.
“I’m here, Derek,” Reid coos, as his slides himself back inside, and immediately Morgan feels more grounded. “There we go. You feel amazing, does it feel good?”
“Yeah, baby. Fuck, you didn’t even have to work me out, you just slid right in.”
“And it’s good?” Reid prompts, even as his hips begin to move, fucking his re-swelling knot in and out of Morgan.
“Yeah, yeah,” Morgan says, reaching up to Reid’s face, to push his hair out of the way, to slip a thumb into his swollen mouth, where Reid immediately begins to suck. “’S’good. Wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want it, would have handcuffed myself, gone crazy. I wanna be here, love.”
Morgan drags his wet thumb down Reid’s chin, along his throat.
“Love? You love me?”
“You already worked that out, genius,” Morgan says, between gasps as he feels Reid’s knot swelling so much it takes more and more force for Reid to fuck him with it. “We can pretend I didn’t tell you after, it was just the heat, but, god—Spencer, say it back.”
Reid comes again, flooding Morgan full as he has him almost folded in half. Morgan has never felt so submissive, never felt the call to let someone take him so completely, and it doesn’t feel like it matters too much whether it’s something else that’s been unlocked in him as well as the heat, or is just a side effect; he wants to give in to it. He wants to give everything to Reid.
“I do love you,” Reid says. He kisses each of Morgan’s calves as he lets his legs down. “I should have said, it shouldn’t have taken being dosed to tell you. I love you, I love you.”
He takes Morgan’s hard cock in hand and strokes him to climax – it doesn’t take much and Morgan grunts with each pulse of his cock. Reid twists his fingers around the head so his semen covers his fingers, and then licks it ravenously, keeping eye contact the whole time.
“No pretending we didn’t say it. No take backs, Morgan.”
“No take backs,” Morgan agrees.
When Reid is able to slide his cock out, Morgan can feel his come sliding out of his stretched hole. Reid gets up, cock still hard and bouncing in front of him, and helps to pull Morgan to his feet too.
“I’m not done with you,” Reid says, and Morgan feels arousal shudder through him at Reid’s tone.
Reid fetches a bottle of water and lifts it to Morgan’s mouth, making him drink most of the bottle. He finishes the last of it himself, and Morgan takes the brief respite to reach out and feel Reid’s knot. It’s firm, the vein that would normally run the length of Reid’s cock protruding and throbbing.
“Did you think I’d be the one with the knot? The Alpha? The suspect did.”
“Yes,” Reid says, as he backs them up towards the hotel window. It’s dark out, the lights of the city glittering beyond. “I’d have taken it. I’d have taken your knot.”
“And if we’d both turned into alphas?”
“We’d have taken turns. But I am the alpha,” he says, and Morgan shivers. Reid turns him on the spot, pressing Morgan’s chest to the cool glass of the window. “And you’re my omega.”
“Fuck, Spencer,” he groans, breath fogging up the glass. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”
Reid presses along the length of Morgan’s back, kisses his shoulder as he kicks Morgan’s legs a little wider.
“You are what?” Reid asks, swiping the head of his cock across Morgan’s dripping hole.
“Yours. I’m yours.”
Reid slides his cock inside easily, to the hilt of his knot, a little push and it pops in easily, and Morgan gasps. He’s still so hard, and so sensitive, like each time has satisfied something that can be quietened each time Reid comes inside him, but he’s never quite sated.
He fucks Morgan hard, forcing him to brace on the window. It’s dark and they’re high up, but if someone were to look they could easily see them silhouetted in the light from the hotel room, rutting against the window. Morgan doesn’t care who sees, who knows that he belongs to Reid, that they belong to each other.
Morgan makes a mess of the window when he comes when Reid is knotting him again, laughing and panting against the glass. Reid grabs him by the neck and pulls his head back to kiss his laughing mouth, biting at his lips and invading his mouth with his tongue.
“You gotta fuck me like this when you’re not in a dosed rut, baby,” Morgan says, as Reid guides him to the bed. “You think you can?”
“Are you going to want it, outside an altered state?” Reid asks, dragging Morgan into his lap, holding his still hard cock up so Morgan can slide himself on.
“Yeah,” Morgan breathes, as he lowers himself down Reid’s cock, as he forces Reid’s knot into him, the way eased by the excess of Reid’s come and the slickness the heat has induced in him. “I know we’re high, but I want this. I wanna give in to you, when it’s just you, just me, when we’re ourselves for real. You gonna want it?”
Reid runs his hands over Morgan’s chest, his stomach, his hips, drinking him in. He knows the heat is beginning to cloud both of them again, whatever reprieve they’ve found quickly fading.
“Yes,” Reid says. “I want to take you, hold you down, fuck you until you’re begging. I’ll give you everything.”
“Everything, huh?” Morgan murmurs, as he rolls his hips.
Gripping Morgan’s thigh with one hand, Reid splays his other hand out over his stomach.
“Millennia ago, I’d have gotten you pregnant tonight.”
Something absolutely primal rips through Morgan at that, and he clasps at Reid’s hand as his body clenches around his knot so hard it hurts, his cock jerking as it spits out even more precome.
“You sure, ah, you sure we can’t?”
“No documented cases in cis men, even in an induced heat,” Reid says, eyes hooded and dark with desire.
“But you could try,” Morgan says, and even though his higher brain knows it’s a fantasy, a folly, his body aches for it. “You wanna give me everything? Fuck me full. Fill me up until it takes.”
“Yeah?” Reid is still in control, he’s still alpha, but in this moment Morgan can feel the shift, can feel himself guiding things, can feel the momentary control he’s been given.
“I’d take your come until you’ve knocked me up. You could fuck me every day while my belly grew. I’d have your kid, Spencer. Fuck, if I could, I’d let you get me pregnant. I’d want it, pretty boy. I want it, fill me up, breed me.”
Reid’s knot anchors them just at that, at having Morgan squeezing around him and saying such fanciful, filthy things. He grabs at Morgan’s thighs and jackhammers his hips upwards until he comes again.
“That’s it,” Morgan says. “Your knot’s keeping in all inside me. Fuck, I wanna come. Reid, alpha, please.”
He could just grab himself and stroke himself off, but that’s not what he wants, he wants his alpha to get him off, he wants his alpha to take back control. Reid wraps both hands around Morgan’s cock and strokes him until he’s painted Reid’s chest with his release.
“Morgan,” Reid pants, as he wraps his hands around his waist. “I’m still hard, I’m going to keep fucking you, are you still with me? If you’re not, as soon as my knot shrinks you need to leave.”
“Baby,” Morgan says, leaning his body forward to kiss him. “I’m not going anywhere. Fuck me, until the heat breaks, alpha.”
Reid takes him from behind on the bed, biting marks across his back as he knots him. He pushes Morgan onto his back and spreads his legs wide, fucking him until he comes without hands again. He strokes him off while his knot shrinks, and Morgan loses count of how many times he’s been filled.
On their sides on the bed, sweat-soaked and exhausted, Reid stop pulling out, just fucks Morgan repeatedly, letting his knot swell inside him, stroking Morgan to completion each time he fills him, thrusting as the knot shrinks, and then swells again. Over and over, until they’ve lost all sense of time.
Eventually, as dawn begins to creep in through the window, Morgan feel something wash over him, almost like a fever breaking.
“Think I’m done, baby,” he murmurs. “But I’ll take it, if you’ve got more to give me.”
“You’re not done, omega,” Reid says, biting Morgan’s shoulder hard. “Just relax.”
Morgan gasps at the sweet pain of Reid’s teeth, but then he hums his content, and does as his alpha commands, relaxing into the bed. He doesn’t feel Reid’s knot swelling this time, no barrier to stop the slide of Reid’s come being pushed out of him with each thrust, making a mess of them both. Reid strokes Morgan to a dry, shuddering orgasm, and uses the final weak squeeze of Morgan’s pliant body to finish inside him.
“You still love me?” Morgan murmurs, as he feels sleep washing into the space the heat has left.
“No take backs, remember?” Reid says, as he snuggles against Morgan’s back, his cock going soft inside him.
“You think Hotch’ll bring us pancakes?”
“Before or after he kills us for breaking quarantine?”
“Well before, hopefully,” Morgan says. “But maybe after a nap.”
“Sleep, Morgan,” Reid says. “I’ll call Hotch later and get us breakfast.”
“An alpha providing for his omega, huh?”
“Yes,” Reid says, as he kisses the bite mark he’s left on Morgan’s shoulder, a mark that will last beyond the last of the induced heat, a reminder that they belong to each other.
“Perhaps home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition.” - James Baldwin