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The Quality of Mercy (Is Not Strain'd)

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Spencer Reid pressed his head against the cool inner surface of the jet and groaned.  He felt like he was on fire on the inside and his stomach, lower abdomen and groin ached.  His legs trembled with the effort of standing up but movement helped.  And his body was too tender and full of want to sit still for long.


He looked up at the voice.  Gideon stood a respectful distance away but Reid could still scent him – warm and comforting and encouraging trust the way a beta always did – and his stomach knotted in lust.

“We’ve made contact.”

Reid closed his eyes.  It took all his willpower to answer him.  “How long?”

“Twenty-four hours.”  Gideon replied.  “Maybe more.”

He groaned again, hands coming up to claw at the inside of the jet.  “I’ll never make it.”  He gasped out.  “Even if they came right now, it’s too late.  It’s started.”




The case had taken longer to crack than they initially thought.  Both Hotch and Gideon were aware of the date.  Shortly before the breakthrough came, they had met in the hotel lounge when the team had gone to bed and over coffee had discussed when it would become prudent to send Reid home. 

The FBI rarely employed omegas like Reid and operated a strict suppressant-only policy when it did.  But the health advice on the using suppressants recommended their use on only 3 consecutive occasions, on the fourth, it was best to let nature take its course and ‘re-set’ the body before starting again.  On an average 3-month cycle, that meant that once every year, for a week, Reid took a ‘vacation’ to the specialist Omega Unit at DC’s Giola Park Hospital where under careful, moderate sedation his body descended into base, heat driven chaos while his mind drifted and slumbered.

That week, carefully planned for by Hotch and Gideon so that the impact on the team was minimised, was only days away and it was getting closer all the time.

But the morning had brought the vital clue they’d been missing and the case broke.  The team wrapped up the paperwork quickly and it was just over 24 hours later they were packed and ready to leave.  Gideon could see the concern both he and Hotch felt patterned in the eyes of Morgan and JJ and Elle as they looked at Reid when they thought he wasn’t looking.  If Reid noticed, he made no indication but he surely could not fail to guess the significance of Hotch and Morgan – the alphas on the team – taking a separate SUV to the airport.

It was that joint desire to get Reid home as quickly as possible that led to the decision to take off in uncertain weather.  And somewhere over the Rockies, trouble hit.




Morgan woke slowly.  He could hear the heavy pelt of rain against metal and a jumble of voices that became clearer as time passed.  Awareness of his body returned next, the tight strap of his lap belt digging into his thighs, the tension in his muscles from holding a brace position…  His head ached dully but other than that, he was unharmed.

Smell quickly followed – petricor, burnt rubber and… a wave of heaviness rushed through him to pool uncomfortably in his groin as the last, faintest scent made itself known. 


He could smell Reid.

He opened his eyes to see the jet was still in one piece and despite the evidence of his own continued existence something about that surprised him.  Everything looked pretty much as it should on a normal landing.  It was only the mess on the floor – books and chess set, files and personal entertainment devices – that spoke of the emergency that had occurred.

“Is everyone all right?”  Hotch’s voice was met with a reassuring spread of confirmations.  “Both the pilot and the co-pilot have broken bones.  Elle, would you..?”

Morgan turned to look at Hotch.  He was standing in the doorway to the cockpit and Morgan’s gut clenched at the man’s proximity to Reid. 

Elle got up and pulled a large medical kit from the overhead locker. 

“Reid, go with her.”  Gideon said, but he never once looked at the young man.  His eyes locked with Morgan’s and then moved to do the same with Hotch’s. 

The young man got up and followed Elle. 

“And Reid?”

The kid looked back to his mentor.

“Lock the door.”

His face blanched but to his credit he only nodded before disappearing into the cockpit.




Hotch told them that the pilot had been able to receive a reply to their Mayday and to send full co-ordinates before the emergency landing.  But the bad news was that their position was remote and a rescue attempt was unlikely until the storm passed.  They could be trapped for anything up to 3 days.  Ordinarily this wouldn’t be a problem, the jet was stocked with plenty of supplies and no-one was badly injured.

There was only one issue.  And Reid’s scent lingered in the cabin, fainter than before, but just as unsettling, reminding Hotch what it was.

It was JJ who finally spoke what they were all thinking.  “Reid still has 2 days.”

“No.”  Gideon said.

“May 11.”  JJ clarified.  “Today’s the 9th.”

“Stress can bring on a heat early.”  Hotch told her.

“Or delay it.”  There was a note of anxiety in her voice.

“JJ, I can smell him.  I’m pretty sure Hotch can too and in a couple of hours so will you, Elle and Gideon.”  Morgan admitted.  “He’s going into heat now.”

“There are tents in the survival kits.”  Hotch said.  “Morgan and I will start making camp now.  We will not come back inside the jet.  JJ, we need to establish contact with the rescue services.  The radio looked undamaged.”  He got up.

“I’ll help Elle and Reid with the pilots.”  Gideon said.  “We’ll need to move them to the tents as well.”

JJ frowned.  “They’re betas.”

“24 hours from now, it’ll be all the same to Reid.”  Morgan said.

“A beta is less affected by an omega in heat but the reaction is still strong.”  Gideon told her. 

“We can control-” she began.

Gideon cut her off.  “We believe we can maintain our control because that’s what we’re taught.”  His eyes were dark.  “They’re wrong.”  




Some hours later, Reid sat in the almost empty jet.  Through the small window he could see two shelters nestled beneath a rocky outcrop some 200 metres away.  Someone had made a fire and the damp wood was creating a smoky haze around the camp.

Movement at his side pulled his attention back to the jets only other occupant.  Gideon placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of Reid and, probably subconsciously, drew in a long breath.

Reid’s eyes flickered to his mentor’s groin.  There was no tell-tale lump.  His scent must be too faint yet for a beta to catch.

Gideon sat down on the opposite side of the table and regarded the chess set between them.  He frowned when his eyes caught on the move Reid had made in his absence.

Reid offered a smile.  “Check.”  He said.

Gideon effortless moved one of his own pieces.  “Checkmate in 9 moves.” 

Reid stared at the board, recognised the trap he’d fallen into with all the ease of a 9th grader and sat back.  The smell of the coffee tempted him, but he felt too feverish to attempt to drink something hot.

Gideon offered him a smile and began re-arranging the pieces.  “Another game?”

Reid shifted in his chair and tugged at his collar, wrenching his tie off because suddenly the constriction had become unbearable.  He caught the way Gideon had stilled, watching him and forced himself to stop before he could undo more of the buttons on his shirt.

Gideon blinked.  “Sorry.”  He said and looked down at the board.  “This will be our last game.”

Reid felt a flicker of panic.  Their last game before Gideon left the plane, locked the door and left him alone to cope with the ravages of his body’s biological drives with only an RT for emergencies.

He swallowed.  “I’ve never…”  He began, “I’ve never done this before.”  He looked back out the window again.  “I had my gender genetically identified before I entered high school.  I was 9.  My doctor’s put me on suppressants before my first heat so I wouldn’t…”  He trailed off, unwilling to put into words the possible scenario of a pubescent child going into First Heat in a classroom full of young adults that had prompted the doctor’s actions.  “And I’ve always gone Under for them.”

“No-one will touch you.”  Gideon said.  “I promise.”

He couldn’t explain how he was beginning to want to be touched; need to be touched, all over, outside, inside, again and again and again…

“Even a bonded omega goes Under for their first heat after taking suppressants.”  Reid told him.  “The repression can cause serious complications.”

Gideon motioned for Reid to take the first move.  “When we make contact with the rescue services, I’ll instruct them to bring the appropriate sedation.”

Reid moved a pawn, falling into classic opening strategy, and felt no comfort in Gideon’s reassurance.

The game continued and his sloppy playing quickly lost him both his Knights and then, his Queen.  He felt overly warm and restless and uncomfortably aware of Gideon’s presence in a way he had never noticed before.

When he looked up from the board, he could see Gideon watching him.

Gideon swallowed.

Reid’s heart missed a beat, thudding briefly, sickeningly, out of sync.

Gideon stood up.  “I have to leave now.”  And then, to soften the harsh announcement added, “I’m tired.”

Reid watched him hurry to the hatch and couldn’t stop his next words.  “I trust you.”  He called after him.

His mentor froze.

The words tumbled out fast, “if I have to-”

“Don’t.”  Gideon looked back at him and put his hand up.  “You can’t understand what you’re asking.  I know those words aren’t yours.”

A horrible wave of shame crashed over him.  He had never liked being an omega but he had never been ashamed of it.  Until now.

“Keep the door locked, Spencer.”  He said as he opened it.

“I’m scared.”

Gideon offered him a small smile.  “It will be all right.”




 In the morning, the storm had died down.  The team huddled in the shelter as finally contact was made.  Gideon made the choice to return to the jet to tell Reid that help was coming, slowly due to their remote location, but on its way. 

He returned grim.

Reid’s heat had begun.




 Reid paced up and down the aisle, his movements jerky and awkward as the fabric of his pants rubbed against his persistent erection.  It felt too rough and constrictive to be good but his body seemed not to care.  He wanted to touch himself, touch his rock hard cock, but he forced himself to wait.  He knew that heats went through a 3 phases – primary, plateau and resolution – and what brought relief in the initial primary phase would mean nothing when in the full intensity of the plateau stage.  It would be better to keep full masturbation until he hit the secondary period and if the books were to be believed, the primary phase would come to an end in about 6 hours.  That was such a small block of time and yet an eternity of torture and he moaned softly to himself as he increased the speed of his walking and with it the harsh stimulation.

His pants felt damp, sticky with sweat and his body’s natural secretions.


The voice came from the handheld radio that Gideon had placed on the table.  The RT crackled badly due to the weather but Gideon’s voice was recognisable.  He wanted to scoop it up and just talk, talk about anything, to anyone who would listen to distract him from the horrible arousal tearing him apart.

But he remembered the shame he’d felt at Gideon’s repulsion and moved the furthest end of the sofa, sat down and pulled his knees tight against his chest.   

“It hurts.”  He whispered the reply that Gideon would never hear. 




Sometime later – it felt like hours but was probably less than one - he allowed himself to undo his trousers.  He pushed them and his pants below his hips and his cock sprung free.  His erection was bigger than normal, heavy and full from his heat.  He thumbed his foreskin back, breath catching in his chest at how good it felt, revealing his moist glans.  Then pushed it back up, groaning at the sensation of it sliding over the sensitive tip of his penis.  He pulled it back and his hips shifted involuntarily at the delicious tugging at the delicate tissues of his frenulum.

He repeated the action again then brought his index finger to the other side of engorged cock and when he pushed back his foreskin again, it was with more pressure and he moaned softly.  It would feel so good to just grip himself and jack until he came.  It wouldn’t take long.  But the books dedicated to managing a solo heat all recommended holding back for a long as possible.  And he trusted books.

His speed slowly increased and his other hand slipped below him to tease at his hole.  It felt slick, almost unpleasantly so, and he pulled his hand out to examine the clear fluid.  It had a smoother quality to it than his semen but the odour was about the same, perhaps a little more fragrant.  Somewhere in the back of his brain he wondered if it had the same taste as well, but he pushed the thought away and drowned it by pushing a finger inside himself.

The feeling made him bite back a cry.  This was what his body wanted, craved, what it was made for and he felt a wave of desire rush through him, leaving him aching to be penetrated.

He pushed another finger inside, but it wasn’t enough.  With a gasp that was caught between pleasure and frustration, he grabbed at his cock and rocked his hips desperately, into the tight grip on his hand and back onto the fingers spearing him.  He couldn’t stop.

The book…


But he pulled harder on his foreskin and it felt so good…so very good…and finally came with a loud cry, falling boneless across the sofa as his body pumped his seed over his fingers.

He lay there, breathing heavy, come-slicked fingers still around his cock.  The flesh in his hand softened a little, but not completely.  The ache remained.





The team did not sleep and night passed slowly.  Every so often, the RT crackled to life and the sound of Reid’s voice reported in.  From the soft, “I’m OK,” at the beginning to the somewhat more desperate, “are they here?  When are they coming?”

And finally, in the early hours, when Reid’s heat plateaued, to begging…“Please…  Help me.”  And JJ had covered her ears and ran into one of the tents.

Gideon watched her go and picked up the RT, holding it as if the contact could somehow bring some comfort to Reid.

Elle hugged her arms to herself.  “It’s killing him.”

Hotch’s face was carefully masked.  “It’s a natural process.”

Elle felt a rush of anger at his seemingly calm response.  “Complications can-”

“Reid is young and he’s strong.”  Hotch cut in, and the harsh clip to his voice betrayed just how much feeling he was struggling to conceal.  “He’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Has he ever had a heat before?”  She demanded.

“No.”  Gideon said. 

“There are reasons why post-suppressant omegas go Under for the initial heat, Hotch.”  Morgan pointed out.

The RT crackled, “Gideon…?”  Reid’s voice sounded rough, “Hotch…?…please...?”

Morgan finally got to his feet, “Dammit, Hotch, one of us has got to go to him.”

Hotch also stood, “Reid is not in a place right now where he can make that choice.”

“I know that.”

Gideon looked up at them.  “We need to make a decision.”  He said and gripped the RT tightly.   “And we need to make it now.”




Reid clutched the RT with one hand as he desperately fingered his anus with the other.  His body, partially sated by his last ejaculation, still writhed with want without the fullness of a knot to satisfy it.  But at least some of the clawing, unbearable urgency had faded.  It would be back so enough.

There was a sharp knocking against the hatch and a muffled voice beyond.

Chapter Text



The scent of an alpha hit Reid as soon as the door opened and a confusing mixture of lust and fear ran through him at the sight of the man pushing his way into the plane and quickly sealing the hatch again. 


The reality what was happening cleared his thoughts for the first time in hours. 

“Reid?”  Morgan asked as his gaze travelled over Reid like physical caress.  His voice sounded heavy and rough, as if it took effort to speak, but the note of concern was clear.

Reid’s legs locked, caught between confusing impulses that wanted him to get both closer to the alpha and to back away.  His heart beat unevenly in chest, the rapid thuds almost painful.




The smell inside the cabin hit Morgan with the force of a freight train – omega heat and omega sex – and he felt the familiar stirring in his pants while his mouth filled with saliva.  But the fear in Reid’s eyes proved more potent than the cocktail of hormones in the air and Morgan froze.  The kid looked terrified… and absolutely fuckable, a traitorous thought supplied. 

Reid’s longish hair was temptingly mussed, wisps sticking to his brow and several thick locks were falling into his eyes, shading them.  His shirt was unbuttoned and had slipped off his left shoulder, revealing the curve of his neck where it swept down to meet his collarbone.  And the line of that collarbone… pronounced due to the general emaciation that stripped Reid of anything approaching even necessary fat…was a work of art worth of Michelangelo.  His trousers were unbelted, undone and hung loose, defying gravity only by the sharp protrusion of Reid’s hipbones and the merest of brushes would have them puddling down.  The fabric was damp in places, stained with semen and the juices from his bartholin gland, but the bulge in his equally marked underwear spoke of how little effect his masturbation had had on his heat.

Morgan swallowed what felt like a small ocean of saliva and forced out.  “Reid?”

Staring at the boy – and he was a boy, despite all the letters after his name – seeing the fear on his face, he remembered the arguments around the campfire and tried to
hold on to the knowledge that he was the best one to do this.  And that he cared enough for Reid – more than enough – to do this right and not push it further than the young man could cope with.

But that was before he had scented how good Reid smelled and felt the answering rush of hormones in his body… that traitorous voice pointed out.

“Reid, listen to me.”  He bit his lip against the wave of almost uncontrollable lust that was rising along with other parts of his body.  He guessed he had about ten minutes of semi-clear thinking left before his instincts took over from his higher functions.  “Are you sure you want this?”

The boy gave no reply, but his eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights.

“Reid…  Spencer…”  He licked dry lips.  “Kid, you gotta say now if you want me to leave.”  He didn’t add that if he left in any longer he might not have enough willpower to obey.

Still no reply.

“Never thought I see the day you didn’t have something to say.”  He felt his lips jerk up in a grin despite himself.  “What, no statistics on this?”

Reid swallowed.  “Um…96% of all first experienced heats result in bonding.”  He replied, voice shaky to begin with but quickly gained strength.  “76% result in pregnancy.  There is a substantially increased risk of heart arrhythmia resulting in muscle cell death when a heat occurs after suppressants and the omega has not been sedated.  Globally there are around 500 documented cases of deaths per year that are a direct result of suppressant-affected heats but the actual numbers are potentially much higher.”

The doom laden spiel of numbers and facts should have been like a bucket of ice-water but wasn’t.  It was a comfort to know the kid was still in there, fighting his biology.

“You’re gonna be fine, Pret-” He cut the familiar tease off because, oddly, it felt inappropriate but the kid must have heard it anyway as he looked down at his feet in discomfort.  “Reid…?  Do you want me to stay?”

Reid looked up.  And ever so slightly nodded.

Morgan felt his cock stiffen even more at the sight of his agreement and bit back both a groan and the desire to just pounce.  “I need to hear you say it, kid, so we’re clear on this.”  And he could only pray he had the willpower to leave if the word spoken was ‘no.’

“Yes.”  Reid said.

Morgan closed the gap between them even before he’d finished pronouncing the ‘s’ sound, reaching out to cup Reid’s face in his hands. 

The young man let out a soft moan at the feel of a touch on his body that was not his own and Morgan smiled, slipping the fingers of his left hand down Reid’s neck to catch in his shirt.  Just the barest of brushes and the fabric slipped off Reid’s right shoulder to bunch ungainly at the crooks of his elbows.

Reid shivered as if cold and Morgan leaned in, capturing the kid’s mouth and teasing it open with his own lips.

“I am bonded to Haley, so any decision taken will not include me.”  The traitorous voice whispered to him, words from their conversation around the campfire, Hotch’s words.

Morgan felt a rush of desire that obliterated the memory as he felt Reid’s tongue tentatively move across his lips and he pressed closer, revelling in the hardness pressed against his own and in the knowledge that Reid felt comfortable enough to initiate rather than just accept.  On that heady feeling, he quickly stripped the shirt from Reid’s arms and tossed it away.  His own quickly followed and with a moan he tugged Reid to him so that their bare chests pressed together, defined muscle against stark ribs, rich coffee blended with pale cream, hands sliding down to grip the young man’s hips to pull him closer still.

Reid let out a sharp cry at the suddenly stimulation of his swollen flesh.  It sounded too full of pain to be one of desire and Morgan stilled, forcing himself to think beyond what his body wanted.  And God, how it wanted…

“Kid?”  He didn’t know what he’d do if Reid wanted to call a stop to it now.  But despite the fierce ache in his loins and the even fiercer urge, he stepped back.

Reid caught his wrist, but wasn’t able to meet his eyes and Morgan knew that look because he’d worn it himself many times over the years.  Shame.  And knew the young man would never be able to explain.

“Show me.” 

Slowly the boy pushed down his trousers, revealing the angry redness of his engorged flesh, foreskin pulled tightly back, glans sensitised to the point of pain by denial. 

“God, Reid…”  The rush of sympathy shored up his willpower and he fought back against the urge to just take.  “Trust me, all right?”

Morgan pressed a tender kiss against Reid’s lips before sliding down onto his knees. 

Reid whimpered when Morgan’s tongue flicked out and licked gently at the reddened glans.  Then moaned as the expected pain did not come from the touch and then moaned again as Morgan repeated the action.  This time the sound was one of pure pleasure and it made Morgan bold enough to take the whole of Reid’s head into this mouth and lave his tongue over it.

Reid’s body shuddered and he cried out, gasping, as his hips thrust forward of their own volition.  It took Morgan by surprise and he choked as the hard flesh hit the back of his throat and triggered his gag reflex.

Reid pulled back immediately, eyes wide in alarm, “I…I…”

Morgan quickly replaced his mouth, but brought his hands up to grip Reid’s bony hips and hold them in place. 

“I…I…” The kid was still stuttering, only now it was interspaced with groans and gasps.

Morgan pulled back and suckled gently at the head.  Reid cried out and his body trembled and tried to thrust.  Morgan held him firm, the hollows of the palms of his hands fitting so perfectly into the jut of Reid’s hipbones, and sucked harder, moving in a quick and sure rhythm.

“I…oh God…I…Morgan, I…urgh…”  His body jerked and tensed up and Morgan’s mouth was flooded with the thick taste of salt and metal and Reid.  The young man sank to the floor next to Morgan who immediately pulled him close, hungry for contact.  He pushed his face into the fall of Reid’s hair and inhaled.  His own hardness ached and it was becoming ever more difficult not to just flip Reid onto his back and take him right there. 

Reid’s breathing gradually slowed, “I…”

Morgan silenced him with a kiss, hot and demanding, gripped with the need to bury himself in Reid.

Reid pulled back.  “I…I’ve never done this before.”

“He’s probably a virgin.”   Elle’s voice echoed in his head. The memories were the only thing keeping his alpha self in check.

Morgan’s balls ached and the effort to form words with becoming greater all the time.  “I know.”

“A woman would be more prudent.”  Hotch had said. 

“Oh.”  Reid said.

“He probably trusts JJ,”Morgan remembered saying, “more than anyone except…”

Gideon.  Who had remained silent until the very end.

Morgan offered him a smile.  “For what it’s worth, kid, I’ve never been with an omega before.”  It wasn’t entirely a lie but not quite the truth either.  Did getting to second base with his college roommate count?  He leaned in, pushing Reid back into the narrow space of the aisle and quickly stripping him of his trousers and pants.

“You’re still hard.”  Despite his familiarity with omega sexuality, that still came as a surprise, as did the sharp, almost painful, wave of lust that coursed through him at the sight of Reid’s erection, smaller and less urgent than before, but still firm.

“Reid is too far into his heat and the best way to ensure it passes safely is for him to knot if it becomes necessary.”Gideon had said.  “It has to be Morgan.” 

Morgan tossed aside his trousers and pants before leaning over Reid.  It took all his willpower not to just push Reid’s legs apart and take what his hormones was screaming was his right as an alpha.

Reid arched his back and moaned.

Morgan reached down and caressed Reid’s thighs then with a groan pushed them aside and pressed his body into the space between.  Somewhere in the clouded fog that had descended at Reid’s proximity was the vague remembrance of the 3-pack of condoms in his jeans pocket.

He pushed his penis into the cleft of Reid’s arse and moaned at the slick feel of the secretions.  He thrust once and the movement pressed his glans against Reid’s pucker.

“Yes!”  Reid cried.

With a growl, Morgan lined himself up and pressed.  Resistance spoke of Reid’s inexperience and the young man’s hips jerked with impatience.  “Relax, Rei…Spencer.”  God it was so hard not to just shove in.

“I want…I need…God I need it, Morgan.”

“It’s coming, baby.  Just push against me… God, yeah, like that…”  His glans was suddenly engulfed in the tightest wet heat he’d ever known and nothing could stop the surge of alpha hormones then and he thrust in roughly.




Reid cried out as his body was finally filled and the unbearable want faded under the pleasure of having the hot, hard pressure inside him.  Then Morgan withdrew and the want was back only to fade again under the next thrust.  The world shrank to that rhythmic pattern of want and fade, white hot need and exquisite pleasure, which quickly birthed a new need, a deeper, baser need for…

“More.”  He gasped.  He wanted Morgan deeper in him, harder, fuller…  “God, please…!”




Morgan groaned at the wave of eager desire those words engendered.  “I...I can’t.  God, Reid, I wish I could.”

“Yes.  Please.”  And he lifted his hips to drive Morgan’s cock deeper.

Morgan groaned as the angle pushed him further into Reid’s tight channel.  “I can’t, Pretty Boy.  Any further and, urgh, I’ll knot you.”  He could feel the small swelling begin, bumping against Reid’s sphincter.  All it would take was one sharp trust and they’d be joined.  Bonded.  And every single instinct inside him was crying out to do just that.

Instead, Morgan shifted their bodies and slipped a hand around Reid’s cock and began to stroke in a counterpoint to his thrusts, marvelling at the smooth wet glide of Reid’s foreskin.

With a sharp cry, Reid threw back his head and came, spurts of semen coating Morgan’s fingers.  God he looked absolutely beautiful.

And on that sweet thought, Morgan gave in to the feeling of Reid’s passage spasming gloriously around his cock.  His orgasm crested and he buried his face in the crook of Reid’s neck as pleasure wracked his body, biting down on his own lip as he fought the almost unstoppable urge to press his knot into Reid and complete them both.

He came back to himself to the sound of Reid’s heart beating and he pressed his cheek against the young man’s narrow chest and let the noise consume him.  Reid was so skinny that Morgan could feel the movement of his heart beneath his ribs and he closed his eyes.

The soft tickle of skin against skin at the centre of his back made him look up. 

Reid’s face was still flushed but there was something approaching peace on his features.  The urgency of his heat quiet for the moment.

“Thank you.”  He said.

Anything he said would feel trite so Morgan moved up and kissed his forehead instead.

“It’s not over.”  Reid warned.

“I know.” 

The blush that crept across Reid’s cheeks was startling, because despite being naked and mussed and covered in come, he looked so much like the way he always did, at his desk in the FBI, awkward and geeky and unknowingly cute.

“You hungry, kid?”  He asked, pulling out of Reid and getting up.  “There must be something edible in here.”




Barely an hour late, Morgan took Reid over the back of the pilot’s chair, rutting almost mindlessly after muttering something about putting the cock into cockpit.  He had gripped Reid’s hand and pressed it against his concave belly so that he could feel Morgan moving inside him.  And he had continued to hold Spencer’s hand there even as he begged to be allowed to touch his cock, until he’d come just from the pleasure of being fucked, hard and deep like he needed.  But Morgan pulled free of Reid in the very last second to spill his seed over the young man’s backside because he didn’t trust himself not to push his knot home.




Reid stirred in Morgan’s arms, turning on to his back, revealing his half hard cock.   Morgan propped his head up on one arm and trailed the other down Reid’s narrow chest until he reached his cock.  It fit nicely into his hand.

The restlessness in Reid’s body told him that the ache of his heat was back, if it had ever really left.

Morgan played with the foreskin, pulling and teasing at the delicate skin that his own cock lacked.  He leant forward and tasted it, nibbled gently at the loose fold, wondering what it felt like.  Judging by the heartfelt groan Reid let out, the answer was pretty damn good. 

A fresh wave of omega scent hit him as Reid’s arousal spiked again and Morgan felt the answering rush of alpha hormones in his body.  His balls throbbed as blood began to pool in groin yet again and he moaned softly.

He pursed his lips as if to press a kiss to the top of Reid’s penis but instead moved lower, pushing back his foreskin with his lips and taking the sensitive head into his mouth.

Reid’s hips bumped up and Morgan pressed them down and held them still as he tongued under the young man’s foreskin.  Reid moaned something that might have been ‘Derek…’ and Morgan slipped one hand beneath Spencer’s balls to caress his perineum.  The young man responded by spreading his legs and crying out.

Morgan’s tongue found the delicate V where Reid’s foreskin was attached to his penis and laved against it at the same moment his finger pressed into him.




Spencer cried out as he was impaled, tightening around the invasion.  Morgan began to move the digit in and out, far too slowly and gently to bring any relief to the fierce need for penetration.


Morgan increased the speed, just a little and peppered Reid’s hips with sharp nips, closing his mouth around the protrusion of his pelvis and sucking, quickly raising a bruise.

It wasn’t enough.

“Please, Morgan.”

He felt another finger slide in, wider and fuller and still not enough.

“Fuck me.”

Morgan growled and moved quickly, pulling Reid’s legs over his shoulders, lining up and sliding all the way in.  It filled him exactly like he wanted, but it still wasn’t enough.

Reid gasped as the angle of the thrusts rubbed firmly against his prostate again and again.  His heart skipped and beat widely, a sharp pain in his chest that was barely noticeable against the rush of pleasure that accompanied each of Morgan’s firm thrusts.




Some distant corner of Morgan’s mind registered the blue tinge to Reid’s lips but nothing could stop his urgent thrusts into the tight heat.  It felt glorious and it was his.  Reid was his and he had never looked more beautiful, eyes half closed, greying lips parted and mouthing a silent litany of “yes, yes…”, sweat beading across his perfect nose like a smattering of freckles…

Morgan could feel the swell in the base of his penis, knotted harder than ever.  His body had been denied so many times and it would feel so good…so good…to give in.

“God, I wanna knot you.”

Reid cried out at his words and raised one of his hands to his chest and clawed at the skin over his heart, gasping.  His fingernails left red marks in their wake.

Morgan thrust in deep, bumping the knot against Reid’s sphincter, letting him feel it.  Spencer spread his thighs wide, his left leg falling from Morgan’s shoulder to hook behind his lover.  And then he arched his back to better receive…

“Fuck.”  Morgan tasted his own blood as he bit down on his own lip as the urge finally overwhelmed him.  He gripped Reid’s hips and thrust hard and deep, his knot meeting resistance.  He growled in frustration and reached down to grip Spencer’s cock and stroked firmly.


Morgan saw the shudder that ran through Reid’s body a split second before he felt Reid’s tight channel spasm around him.  With a roar, he pushed home, his knot sinking easily into Reid when the rhythmic contractions of his anus relaxed.  They both groaned when his knot was squeezed by the next contraction. 

Morgan thrust once more into the exquisite tightness, driving his knot as deep as he could and came harder than he ever had in his life.




Morgan’s weight was heavy across his chest and his breathing felt oddly congested.  But none of that mattered next to overwhelming completeness he felt.  The knot inside Spencer filled him exquisitely.  The terrible clawing want finally silenced.  He squeezed it with his inner muscles, making Morgan moan and shudder through another orgasm. 

Reid tentatively stroked Morgan’s wiry hair, the course texture so different to his own fine silk.  Morgan lifted his head from Reid’s chest and met his eyes.  There was a softness there that Reid had never seen before and it surprised him when Morgan shifted and brought his lips to Reid’s.

The kiss was almost shy.

Reid blushed when he realised that, despite what they’d done together, they hadn’t really kissed.  Morgan brushed his lips slowly against Spencer’s, one hand cupping the back of Reid’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. Gradually the gentle kiss deepened and Reid tensed as he felt Morgan’s tongue brush against his own.




Morgan moaned too as the tight grip of the tension in Reid’s body milked another orgasm from his knot, stifling his cries in the warmth of the kiss as he rode out the spasms.  It was less intense now and faded faster and he felt the knot diminish in its wake.

Reid pulled back from the kiss, probably sensing the bond receding as well.  He looked, as he always did, younger than his 23 years, awkward and shy and unsure.

Morgan brushed his thumb against Reid’s cheek and pulled him back into the kiss.




They lay together, released from the knot but still joined by choice, Morgan lazily moving inside Reid.  Both hard but no longer urgent.  A lull after knotting.

Reid could hear helicopters in the distance, yelling and calling.

The team were being rescued. 

Reid smiled and closed his eyes to focus of the gentle brush of Morgan’s glans over his prostate.

They would be last to leave.  No one would dare go near an alpha with his mate in heat.




Reid stared at the glass of water one of the doctors had placed on the hospital table that curved over his bed.  He couldn’t bring himself to look at the other item he had been given.

Footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up.

Morgan stood in the doorway as if unsure whether he was welcome to enter or not.

Reid both felt and heard his heart rate increase at the sight of his bonded mate: feel the rapid thud in his chest and hear the quickening of the blip..blip..blip of the heart monitor the doctor’s had hooked him to assess if there had been any damage.

Morgan’s attention was drawn by the noise and the concern that immediately filled his face was reassuring.  He moved to Reid’s bedside and an awful silence descended in which it became ever more obvious that neither wanted be the one to start this conversation.

In the event, they spoke together…

“Reid, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

…as if they were one. 

Another silence fell.

“I shouldn’t have…”  Morgan took a deep breath.  “The knotting.  I shouldn’t have done it.”

“The urge to knot is a reaction to the refrin excreted by an omega’s bartholin gland,” Reid began and the knowledge soothed him the way learning always did.  It was so much easier to see his problems through its filter.  “It’s part of a natural biological process present in humanity for millions of years. There are nasal receptors unique to alphas that directly correspond to-”

“Dammit, Reid, stop quoting textbooks!”  Morgan snapped.  “I know you never wanted this and I’m sorry.”

He swallowed, the spike in his heart rate filling the room with sharp little blips.  “I needed help” he told him, “and you made the choice to help me despite the consequences.”  Reid ran his finger down the glass in front of him.  “I can fix it.” 

It was only then that he had the courage to acknowledge the other item the doctor’s had brought: a small yellow pill. 

Morgan’s eyes widened.  “Is that…?”

“Ruptil.”  Reid confirmed.  It was both an emergency contraception and a chemical flush, breaking a tentative bond and preventing a pregnancy.  It would make Reid sicker than he ever been in his entire life and Morgan would have to take the corresponding alpha formulation Notil and suffer through a sharp headache but after 24 hours they’d be free. 

“You haven’t taken it yet.”  Morgan said, unnecessarily.

“No.”  He looked up.  “I was waiting for you.”

The bond inside him felt so strong already but his mind remained strong, seeing beyond the base biological drive to the clearer picture.  He was too young for this.  So was Morgan.  They would not have made this choice of their own volition.  He had to be detached about it.  Weigh the facts and make a sound judgement based only on them. 

So why did he wait?

“God Reid…Spencer…”  He closed his eyes and sat down on the bed, blindly reaching out to Reid, cupping his head in his hands and pulling their foreheads together.  “I can feel it.  Inside me.  The bond.”  He shifted and brought his lips to Spencer’s hairline and spoke against the strands of spun silk.  “I don’t ever wanna let it go.”

Reid’s hand swept out, knocking the pill and glass away.  The sound of it shattering on the floor faded against the feel of Morgan’s lips seeking his own.




ATTENTION MUSE!  Now that I have done what you wanted and written this piece of utter fifth fine literature, can you please stop rolling around in the gutter and come help me finish Consensus Theory?