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Hotch knocked briskly. He didn’t wait for a reply before he let himself into Derek’s office. “Oh, Derek, before you take off…” he began.
He stopped abruptly when he saw them making out on Derek’s couch. He cleared his throat and shut the door rather forcefully. “Please, you two, I’m not Garcia. I’m not enjoying the show.”
Dave and Derek broke apart but didn’t even have the grace to look guilty. They didn’t separate to different ends of the couch. Dave kept his arm around Derek’s shoulders while Derek rubbed Dave’s thigh.
“Well, you did sort of barge in here,” Dave offered unrepentantly.
Hotch put his hands on his hips. “If it was Strauss instead of me…”
Derek grinned. “Strauss has been gone two hours. There was no way she was going to get stuck here on one of the biggest drinking nights of the year.”
Hotch ground his teeth. “I don’t care. Wait till you get home.”
Derek’s eyes twinkled. “We were going to but…”
“But Garcia brought St Patrick’s Day cupcakes,” Dave finished.
Hotch glared at them. “What does that have to do with it?”
Dave arched his eyebrows suggestively. “Well, Derek got a bit of green icing on the corner of his mouth.”
Derek laughed. “And my man here just had to lick it off.”
“It tasted good.”
Hotch shook his head. “I’m sorry I asked.”
Derek squeezed Dave’s thigh. “We should pick up some more of that green icing on the way home. I can think of a few other places where I’d like to sample it.”
“Oh yeah,” Dave murmured. “Do tell.”
Hotch held his hands up to cover his ears. “I don’t need to know. La. La. La.”
Derek cocked his thumb in Hotch’s direction. “Isn’t he a little old to be doing that?”
Dave shrugged and laughed. “I guess not.”
Hotch threw one last glare in their direction. “Go home,” he ordered and ran out. He hurried back to his office, slammed the door, and leaned against it. He frowned and his voice was as close as he ever got to a whine. “I’m going to have nightmares about green icing.”