Emily/Rossi**

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Title: A Friend Who'll Tease Is Better - voodoochild (Ao3)

Summary: Dave's just helping out a friend. Really. There is absolutely nothing in it for him.

Rating: Explicit 

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"Excuse me?"

She's looking at him like he's just said the sky is made of purple elephants, and he just repeats his offer.

"I meant what I said. A beautiful woman shouldn't be embarrassed to ask for something most men enjoy doing."

"No, that's not the part I'm having trouble with," Emily says, taking a sip of wine to clear her throat, and uncrossing and re-crossing her legs on his couch in a rare show of nerves. "I meant – excuse me, you'll do what?"

Dave really can't fathom the blush that's spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. She's almost certainly had a lot of sex in her life, with the way she doesn't bat an eye at some of the weirder sexual aspects of cases they come across. She's shared intimate details with him before – albeit under the influence of four glasses of scotch and the peer pressure of the rest of the team on a night out. He's even fairly sure he's one of the few people who knows she's bisexual. What he's offering really isn't anything earth-shattering.

But just because he has certain views on sex doesn't mean she shares them. He shouldn't make assumptions, and whatever other feelings may be lurking at the back of his head in regards to Emily Prentiss, she's his friend, first and foremost. She deserves honesty.

"The fact that you claim to never have had an orgasm from oral sex is a crime. If you're up for it, I'm willing to put in the effort to correct that oversight." He sets her wineglass aside, raising her hand to his lips and kissing it. "If you're uncomfortable because we work together, I understand. But if you're uncomfortable because you think you're somehow imposing, trust me. Sex with you would never be an imposition, Emily."

She bites her lip, and all he wants to do is lean over and kiss her, but this is a decision she has to come to on her own. They're coworkers – albeit coworkers who spend time together outside of the office without the rest of the team – and while he's the reason 90% of the Bureau's non-fraternization rules were implemented, she almost certainly has more to lose. He would never want to put her in any position that would force her to choose between him and her career.

This isn't a decision to rush, so he gives her time and space, finishing off his own wine and bringing both glasses into the kitchen to rinse out. He's just put the wineglasses in the dishwasher when he hears her soft footfalls behind him.

"All right," she says softly, leaning against the doorway.

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He takes her upstairs, past the guest room she's stayed in a few times (when her apartment was being fumigated, after the Louisville case when he'd gotten his bell rung, the weekend half the team crashed after a late dinner) and into his own bedroom. She's seen it before, but not under these circumstances, so he lets her scan the bookshelves and run her fingers over the photos of his parents' wedding and his sister and nephews in Jersey. A smile crosses her face when she reaches the photo of he, Aaron, Gideon, Sullivan, Dominguez, Lutz, and Web, the original BAU.

Dave doesn't smile – most of the people in that photo are either dead or so far off the grid they might as well be.

That's a story for another night, though, and tonight is about her. He walks over to her, slow movements to let her get used to the idea that he's going to be touching her very, very soon, and he loves the little gasp she gives when he slides his arms around her waist. He intends to start slow, but the hot press of her mouth against his convinces him otherwise. Apparently, once Emily Prentiss has made up her mind, she's made it up all the way, and she laces her fingers through his hair, tugging gently and moaning in approval when he opens his mouth and lets her tongue stroke along his.

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