Hi! Um... This is my first story and it's going to be multi chapter. I have no set time scale but I will always release 1-2 chapters in a month. I don't know what Spencer Reid's schooling schedule was like so I'm winging it. There is no reason for these characters to be in the same place, but that's why it's a story! I write these on my phone, so please forgive my mistakes.

This will be slash and m-preg. Don't like, don't read. Also: not mine.

P.p.s: I didn't write out the sex scene. I may do it later and post it on a different site. I didn't want to get on trouble.

The club was loud and the flashing lights were giving him a headache.

Spencer briefly wondered if he should talk to the manager about the risk of fire, electrocution, and the dangers toward epileptic club goers but quickly decided against it.

His friend Ethan had dragged him out for his 18th birthday, with a surprisingly realistic fake ID, saying he wasn't allowed to sit in his apartment and read on his birthday. It made no sense, as that's what he had done his previous 12 birthdays, but none the less here he was.

He and Ethan had lived together for a few months now. Spencer planned on completing his third doctorate before submitting his application to the FBI and Ethan planned to join him. Frankly, he doubted Ethan would enjoy it. He was always more a free spirit. Still, for now they were friends. Spencer hadn't had many in his life. That may have been the reason why when Ethan had thrown a bundle of clothes at him and demanded he wear them because they were going 'out' he had complied.

Now he leaned uncertainly against the bar, holding a beer, which was honestly disgusting. He looked toward the floor and spotted Ethan grinding against a girl in a hot pink halter dress and sighed. This evening would have been much more enjoyable spent at home reading.

"You don't look like you're having much fun, Pretty Boy."

Spencer looked over to see a tall man leaning against the bar next to him. He was huge. Probably the same height as he was, and twice as broad. His body screamed intimidation, while the friendly smile on his face off set the effect. The man was gorgeous.

His usually wordy replies failed him, and he found himself stuttering.

"W-well alcohol is said to be a depressant."

The man laughed.

"That doesn't coincide with many of my college experiences. Or that woman stripping on the table over there. Would you like to dance?"

Spencer's brain shut off completely.

"With you?"

"Well you don't have to, but yes. That was the purpose of the question."

"I-I don't know how."

The man leaned in close to his ear and Spencer shivered at the feel of heated breath against his skin.

"I'll teach you."

Spencer turned his head and their mouths were only inches apart, but neither moved away.

"Do I get to know your name first?"

The man let out a rich laugh that sent tingles down his spine.

"Derek. My name is Derek."

He nodded, noting the way the man's pupils had dilated.

"Spencer."

The man, Derek, grabbed his hand and lead him out to the floor. It only took moments to prove that he really was hopeless. Spencer bit his lip, expecting the man to either laugh or go off to find a better partner. Derek did neither. Instead he positioned himself behind spencer with his muscled chest firmly pressed to Spencer's back. He placed hIs hands on Spencer's hips and began guiding him to the beat of the music.

One dance turned into three and Derek hands worked their way to the bare skin of his stomach.

Three songs turned to five and Spencer moaned as Derek's lips trailed down his neck.

Five songs turned into ten and Derek ground his aching dick into Spencer's ass.

After 37 minutes and 42 seconds Spencer shivered at the whispered question. "Wanna get out of here?"

A million statistics popped into his head. Statistics about one- night-stands and STD's and being alone with strangers. Still, when Derek bit down at the spot where his neck met his shoulder, he found himself nodding.

Derek was tiered. He'd been under cover now for 18 months and they were one day away from cracking the case. He'd gotten in with a local gang that operated out of a suburban area. The area had once been a thriving family neighborhood, but when gang activity began going up, anyone who could moved out.

When he offered to take the case under cover, he had no idea it'd take this long. He and his partner moved in to a small two bedroom place in the center of the twisting streets over a year ago and slowly, he had gained their trust. Now, after 18 months, they finally had enough video footage to make a mass arrest. He could finally blow his cover and submit his application to the FBI academy in Virginia.

He was driving back to his own house for the first time in months when he passed a bar and stopped for a drink. He'd only been there for about five minutes when *he* walked in.

The boy was beautiful. He was tall and slim, with wavey brown hair that fell around his face. He wore a tight black t - shirt with a pi sign on it and even tighter blue jeans. Derek could tell he wasn't comfortable in them from the way he kept picking at the hems. There was no way this kid was 21, and Derek told himself over and over that approaching him was the worst possible idea.

The boy's friend ordered both of them a beer and chugged his own before making his way to the floor. Still, the other boy stood at the bar sipping from his drink and making faces at the taste. It was ridiculously cute. He didn't even seem to realize he had the attention of half the club.

Derek was about to leave and make his way back home when he took one last look at the boy and caught the look in his eyes. He was so sad. No one so beautiful should look so sad. He changed direction mid-step and made his way to the bar.

The drive was quiet. Spencer occupied his thoughts with numbers and turns trying to block out the heat of the hand on his thigh. Right turn. Two miles. Left turn. One mile. Left turn. Three blocks. 37 trees. 7 bikers. 43 other cars. Finally they pulled up to a modest one story home.

They were barely inside the door when he was pinned against it and lips were on his own. He froze for a moment before responding, but soon he was kissing back just a furiously.

Derek's tongue ran smoothly along his own before exploring his mouth and strong hands ran down his chest to the hem of his shirt, touching the exposed strip of skin there.

Derek pulled away, panting, and buried his face in spencer's neck.

"How old are you?"

Spencer froze. He knew he was the worst liar in history, but he didn't want this to end.

"Relax. I know you're not twenty one. I'm also not planning on doing jail time."

"E-eighteen."

Spencer heard Derek whisper 'Thank god' before lips were once again pressed against his own. Derek hands trailed to the back of his thighs and pulled before Spencer got the hint and wrapped his legs around the bigger man's waist. Both moaned as their bodies pressed together, and then they were moving. Spencer let himself be lost in the kiss until he felt himself falling backwards and landed on a bed with Derek on top of him, between his legs.

"Derek. Please."

He didn't know what he was asking for, but apparently Derek did. The man nodded and stood before pulling his t - shirt over his head. Spencer's breath caught in his throat. The man was all smooth skin and hard muscle and all he wanted was to touch. Before he could move to do just that, Derek was over him again and pulling off his own shirt. For a moment they just stared at each other until Derek traced a line down Spencer's skin.

"God baby. So fucking beautiful."

Spencer moaned and arched to the touch. Derek stopped at the button to Spencer's jeans and their eyes met. Spencer gave a shaky nod and then Derek was pulling tight jeans and boxers down long legs.

"So fucking perfect. God Pretty Boy, what you do to me."

Spencer reached out for Derek's jeans and prayed the man wouldn't notice how badly his hands were shaking as he returned the favor.

After a much more clumsy attempt, they were both naked and Spencer closed his eyes and took a calming breath.

"You okay baby?"

Spencer looked up and tried to smile.

"Y-yeah. I just... I never thought I'd have my first kiss and lose my virginity within the same hour."

Derek froze above him and his hand stilled on Spencer's chest.

"You've never-"

He didn't finish his sentance, but Spencer knew what he was asking and shook his head no.

"Are you sure you want to? With me? You deserve better then this baby."

Spencer snaked his hand down Derek's body and ran his fingers down the man's hard cock.

"Just.. Go slow?"

Derek moaned and nodded.

"Gonna make it so good for you baby. So, so good."

Derek woke up to the sound of buzzing. He looked down to the sleeping boy curled to his side and smiled.

Spencer had been perfect. He'd been everything Derek had ever wanted and more. The way he had arched in to every touch, the way he had whispered Derek's name like a prayer, over and over, the sweet kisses they had shared before falling asleep with promises that this wasn't the end... It wouldn't be. Derek wanted to know everything there was to know about the beautiful boy in his arms.

The buzzing that had originally woken him grabbed his attention and he looked to the floor where his phone laid.

He gently wormed out of Spencer's grip before grabbing it and exiting the room to answer.

"Morgan."

The irate voice of his boss echoed over the line and he winced.

"Morgan, where the hell are you? We've got a briefing in twenty and a bust in an hour!"

Derek ran a hand through his hair.

"Shit. Long night, I'm sorry. Start the briefing without me and I'll be there in half an hour."

He heard his boss take a ragged breath and could picture his face turning from red to purple.

"You better be."

Derek heard the phone slam down and made his way back into his room. Spencer had moved and was now face down in Dereks pillow and Derek had to resist the urge to laugh. He wrote a letter explaining that he had to go in to work and that he'd be back with lunch at noon along with his number incase he needed anything and left it on the bed side table before pulling on some clothes and making his way out of the house.

Spencer woke up to the sun and felt confusion settle in. He'd had a blackout curtain over his window for years. He moved slightly and felt the silk sheets across his body. He didn't have silk sheets. He wasn't in his room. His eyes snapped open and the night came crashing over him in waves. Ethan, the bar, Derek... He looked around the room and felt disappointment overwhelm him. He was alone.

He should have known. He was awkward, geeky Spencer Reid. Derek had been strong and gorgeous. He wanted to scream at himself for believing stupid promises whispered in the middle of the night. At least the man had left him alone to dress in peace.

Spencer crawled out of bed and pulled on his clothes that were still scattered all over the floor and pulled out his cell phone, calling a cab.

It wasn't until he was home, curled in bed, that he realized he was wearing Derek's black graphic t - shirt instead of his own.

Derek pulled in radio from his waist and made the call without breaking his pace.

"This is Agent Morgan. I'm following suspect on foot, North east of the house. I've lost visual, please send back-up!"

He ran trough the trees along the back edge if the property and paused. Sean Anderson was the last of their suspects, and had sacrificed a few lower levels to get away. Derek had been outside and had seen the man run out of the back entrance. Now he'd lost the trail.

He made his way further into the wooded area and kept his eyes to the ground looking for disturbed dirt.

There was a sharp pain on the back on his head and the last thing he saw was Sean Anderson with a bat before the world went dark.

-1-1-1-

It had taken 15 days for Derek to wake up again. He had seven staples in the back of his head and couldn't seem to remember the two months leading up to the bust.

The doctors assured him that it was most likely due to the medications he received after surgery and not from the head trauma it's self. He would likely get his memories back In time. His boss assured him that there was enough evidence that his memory gap shouldn't change the course of the case. Honestly, as long as the bad guys were put away, he didn't care about losing two months of drug deals.

He was released from the hospital two days later, and a week after that received word that he'd been accepted into the FBI.

It was when he was packing up to move that he found a strange letter in his own handwriting between the bed and the side table, and and a black t - shirt three sizes too small shoved under the bed.