"Are you offering to clean it out of the goodness of your heart or because you think I'll find some way to lift your prints off the mug and use them against you?" Philip asks and he can't help himself, a smile blooms across his features. There's something terribly endearing and borderline ridiculous about Reid offering to clean his mug after coming into the home of a man he knows to have killed people and enduring more than a few insults in his general direction. He wonders what happens to create people like this, people with a need to please others in such small ways. And he wonders, too, how much Reid's boyfriend really appreciates that sort of thing.

He really is going to have to watch them a little more closely. If only for his own curiosity and amusement.

"Feel free, of course, if it makes you feel better, but rest assured I can clean my own kitchen if you choose to simply leave the mug where it is." He grins again, a dangerous glint of teeth. "I promise I've been cleaning up my own messes for a very long time." And he really has no way of doing what he's just suggested, of lifting Reid's prints or using them in the future. He doesn't have that sort of equipment in his apartment, but it's amusing to him to have planted the idea anyway. Let Reid think he's capable of something like that.