Title: Triggers & Ties 7: The Exceptions
Author: Kuria Dalmatia
Rating/Warnings: FROA, NC-17 (profanity, badult content/b, explicit sexual situations)
Pairing: Hotch/Reid (Rossi, Morgan)
Summary: They didn't always have to be so damn serious.
Word Count: ~6,000
ARCHIVING: my LJ and site on FFNet.... anyone else? Please ask first.
Feedback always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: The Mark Gordon Company, ABC Studios and CBS Paramount Network Television own Criminal Minds. Salut! I just took them out to play and I promise put them back when I'm done. I'm not making any profit just trying to get these images out of my head.
VERSION: February 2010, started on a flight to Brussels, Belgium in Coach Class. I really, really hate coach class and a laptop battery that doesn't last more than 1.5 hours. Sigh. Finished on a flight from Denver to home in First Class. Something tells me I gotta figure out how to fly First Class more often…
TIMELINES/SPOILERS: Late Season 4, the final scene three days before "To Hell… and Back".
THANKS: Pabzi as always for the encouragement, handholding and beta. To Mombailey1973 for the beta and the threat to lock me in a room with a single bulb so I'd finish the thing. To Lady_of_scarlet for the beta and commentary. Without them, the Rossi-Morgan exchange would have remained languishing on my hard drive.
To those following, thank you for your continued patience.
"For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity, a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress…"
"The Divine Image" by William Blake
***///*** Martinsburg, West Virginia ***///***
Among the things that Reid had considered before making the first romantic overture toward Hotch had been the scenarios in which they would break the unspoken rule about sex when on the Job. Most of them fell under the category of Proof of Life, which included, but was not limited to:
1) One of the team surviving a near-fatal altercation with an UnSub, such as a standoff sans Kevlar vest, high-speed car chase ending in a wreck (intentional or unintentional), poisoning, abduction, torture, etc.
2) One of the team surviving a near-fatal situation such as a bombing, fire, poisonous gas cloud, collapsing building, etc.
3) One of them surviving A or B
4) One of the team dying
5) An UnSub abducting/torturing/murdering a family member of the team or someone who resembled a family member
Because for Hotch to be anything but professional while on the job was simply, well, unthinkable.
So when Spencer found himself (gently) pushed up against the wall of his hotel room, jaw cradled by one of Aaron's hands while the other rested on his waist, and kissed in the passionate and reverent way Aaron had, he wondered just what had happened to provoke this change in behavior.
Even now, Aaron rarely initiated things.
The serial arson case they were working on in Martinsburg, West Virginia, was pretty basic. Small fires, small locations, no injuries. However, the lead detective working the case had recognized a pattern—increased frequency with a shorter cooling off period—and convinced the police chief to call in the BAU.
"I attended one of Agent Gideon's lectures on arsonists a few years back," Detective Dohmen told the Team when they had arrived. Name-dropping wasn't all that uncommon, especially with Rossi being on the team, but it had been three years, one month and seventeen days since an LEO had invoked Gideon's name. Dohmen had then continued, "I want to get this guy before he graduates to something bigger."
The rest of the day had been typical. Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi and Hotch had gone to the various crime scenes; JJ had dealt with the press and Spencer had worked the geographical profile. Dinner at the local diner had been somewhat light-hearted, as if the team sensed that this was going to be one of their easier cases.
As for Aaron showing up at his door after everyone had gone back to their rooms? Not necessarily unusual since Aaron could be just as much a night owl as Spencer. Some of their biggest breaks had come from late night conversations over questionable hotel decaf.
But for Aaron to walk in, close the door, carelessly drop a file on the floor, and then kiss him?
Surely the mention of Gideon hadn't prompted this reaction. Had Aaron decided that Spencer needed physical reassurance that everything was going to be okay? Spencer turned his head; Aaron decided to focus on his jaw. Anger welled up because, "If this is about Gideon, I swear…"
Aaron stepped back, cheeks flushed. "What?"
Spencer met the other man's gaze. He was about to grind out his explanation when Aaron narrowed his eyes and huffed out a laugh. Spencer's temper flared, and he looked away.
"Hey." Aaron's knuckles brushed against his cheek. "This has absolutely nothing to do with Gideon." There was a long pause and Spencer knew that the other man wouldn't continue until Reid met his gaze again. Reluctantly, he did and was surprised at the earnestness he found. "I'm sorry if that's what you thought. It wasn't my intention."
"What was I supposed to think?" he asked defensively.
"That I have horrible timing and that I didn't even take into consideration what the detective had said this afternoon because…" Aaron stepped back. "I…ah…" He cleared his throat. The stain on his cheeks was not from arousal. It momentarily stunned Spencer to realize that Aaron was embarrassed about something. "Oh hell. Three-hundred sixty three days, twenty-three hours and—" he glanced at his watch, "fourteen minutes ago, you kissed me for the first time."
Spencer's mouth dropped open. He knew he made a sound—probably a humiliating squeak of some sort—but Aaron simply planted another kiss on him.
They broke away, Spencer still speechless.
Aaron quirked a grin, his confidence clearly back. "I love you, Spencer Reid."
"I…ah…love you, too," he said and winced as his voice rose in pitch, making it sound like a question rather than a statement of fact.
"Good." Aaron kissed him on the lips, then, ridiculously, on the tip of his nose. Spencer could only gape at him. "I'd like to celebrate properly when we get back."
"Excellent." His lover's smile was wide, his eyes sparkling. He picked up the folder from the floor and ran his knuckles lightly along Spencer's jaw. "Good night, Spence."
Aaron winked and then left, leaving Spencer standing in the meager hallway of his hotel room with his mouth hanging open.
The only thought that ran through Spencer's mind was: He remembered.
***///*** Minot, North Dakota ***///***
For someone whose life depended on recognizing patterns, Spencer found himself remarkably obtuse nowadays when it came to his relationship with Aaron. It was frustrating as hell.
Aaron's romantic overtures were not sappy or typical or overt. They were subtle and sophisticated much like his humor. Aaron tried his best to translate things to Spencer's terms.
A journal article here.
A Chinese finger puzzle there.
A customized Rubik's cube that took seventeen minutes, twelve seconds for Spencer to figure out the pattern and, in turn, precisely one minute, thirty-eight seconds to jerk off in the men's room after he had solved it. No one had ever put that much effort into something that intellectual for him.
Things that were so out of the realm of Spencer's relationship experience that they often left him panicking. Doubting his worth. Terrified that Aaron would come to his senses and, well, leave.
Wondering what the significance of this damn day was because Aaron was passionately kissing him in the men's room of a family restaurant. None of the "Proof of Life" rules were in effect and wheels up was tomorrow morning, so it had to be an anniversary of some sort.
For the life of him, Spencer couldn't figure out what it was.
It was embarrassing.
Down right humiliating for a man with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory, and the one who had initiated this whole thing in the first place.
Aaron suddenly stopped. He pulled back, eyes downcast as if he'd just committed some sin, and he murmured, "Sorry."
Spencer felt like a complete jackass. "I. Ah. No. I just don't… Why?" Spencer asked, hating that his voice pitched upward.
"Just because," Aaron shrugged and looked away, cheeks flushed. Just like that, Aaron's insecurities—the ones that Spencer had worked so hard to help eradicate—were back in full force. "It won't happen again."
"No!" Spencer grabbed the lapels of Aaron's jacket. "I… I'm just not… you're the first… Gah!" Frustrated, he kissed Aaron hard on the lips. As much as he hated when Aaron got like this—self-doubt and shame for expressing himself—Spencer felt privileged to see this side of his lover.
Aaron broke away. "I'm overwhelming you."
"It's not that. It's flattering as hell." He blew out a hard breath. "But… I don't understand. Why now? The first time I gave you a blowjob was…"
Aaron pressed a finger to Spencer's lips as he offered the barest of smiles. "Just because."
"Just because," he repeated as he moved his head slightly so he could speak. He knew he sounded like a moron, but really, it made no logical sense.
"You're making no sense at all."
The other man's eyes sparkled. He placed a small kiss to the side of Spencer's mouth as he ran a thumb along Spencer's jaw. "Sometimes, it's that simple."
And just like that, the insecurity Aaron had displayed was replaced by the cool confidence that he was known for. Aaron patted Spencer's shoulder, straightened his purple scarf, and strolled out of the restroom as if nothing had happened.
"That simple," Spencer echoed as he stared at the closing door.
***///*** Bowling Green, Ohio ***///***
The hotel offered complimentary breakfast, including made-to-order waffles. Spencer was admittedly surprised that he was the first of the team downstairs. Sure, they had been out late last night because the local LEOs insisted on celebrating the close of the case with them. However, none of them had overindulged since they knew that hangovers and pressurized cabins did not go well together.
He poured a bit more maple syrup on his waffles, debating the pros and cons of actually owning a waffle maker and then wondering where it should reside: his place or Aaron's. He eventually decided that it should be at Aaron's, so that Jack could have waffles, too. Maybe the breakfast treat could help ease the Reid Effect with the little boy.
Spencer's thoughts then drifted back to last night. It was rare that he attracted more attention from the ladies at a bar than Morgan. Despite Spencer's best efforts, the women had dogged him through most of the evening. He had been more than a little miffed that Aaron had sat at a table with the police chief, eating popcorn and watching the proceedings with large grins on their faces.
However, forty minutes after they arrived at the hotel, Aaron showed up at his door. Spencer wanted to be pissed that he had been part of the night's amusement, but it was difficult when Aaron apologized, declared his love, and then kissed him with a possessiveness that took Spencer's breath away.
As for the rest of the evening? Well, Aaron left no doubt that he considered Spencer "his". I want you to think about us all day tomorrow, Aaron growled in his ear and proceeded to, well, fuck Spencer's brains out. It had almost been as good as the time on Spencer's couch. Spencer was a little sore, but nothing that was going to be terribly uncomfortable on the jet back to Quantico.
So caught up in his musings that the sudden sound of Rossi's gruff, "Do me a damn favor next time, will you?" made him jump.
Spencer looked up as the other man sat in the chair across from him, plate clattering against the wooden table. It was loaded with scrambled eggs, three pieces of bacon, two toasted English muffins, three packets of orange marmalade, one low-fat peach yogurt, and a whole banana. It was Rossi's "dinner last night tasted like crap" breakfast.
"Favor?" Spencer asked.
"Discretion doesn't mean shit if you're practicing Morse code at two in the morning," Rossi replied tersely as he doused his eggs with Tabasco sauce.
"What? Morse code?" Spencer stared at him mystified. Rossi stabbed at his eggs but didn't offer any further explanation.
Suddenly, he heard Morgan sputtering out a cough, and he glanced over to see the man holding a cup in one hand, coffee dripping down the cup's sides. Morgan had that look on his face that translated to 'I can't believe you just said that' as he stared at Rossi. Spencer glanced between the two men, Rossi refusing to look up and Morgan just standing there.
Frustrated, he cut into the waffle with a bit more force than necessary, the metal scraping against the ceramic plate. "I wasn't practicing Morse code at two in the morning," Spencer retorted, knowing he probably sounded petulant and angry, but he really hated it when the Team dropped pop culture references around him and refused to explain. "Why the hell would I do that?"
There was a long, painful silence. Spencer continued to cut up his waffles, but didn't take a bite.
Then Morgan chuckled, "Move the bed away from the wall, kid."
"What?" He looked over and was momentarily stunned by Rossi's glare. "I don't…" Morgan was now snickering and then…Spencer understood.
"I… I…" he began to stutter and Rossi held up his hand. Spencer immediately shut up and knew he was blushing hotly.
"Just shut up and eat your damn breakfast," Rossi grumbled. When Morgan continued to snicker, he lanced Morgan with an equally harsh glare. "And you should take your own damn advice, Cassanova. Jesus Christ. Like a goddamn war."
Morgan grinned broadly. "Come on, now, Rossi. Is that jealousy I hear? Or was it that you couldn't decide which one to entertain yourself with?"
Rossi bared his teeth a little before glancing over his shoulder. "Hey, Prentiss! Did you hear about Morgan's night?"
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Who didn't?" She then grinned wickedly. "Then again, it was over pretty quick. Like, what? Two minutes?"
"Hey!" Morgan protested as he ruffled Spencer's hair. He sat down and slung an arm around his shoulders. "I'm gonna take the high road on that one like Pretty Boy does. You know, 'gentleman never tells' and all of that."
"Derek Morgan. Gentleman," Prentiss said as if in deep thought and then shook her head. "Nope. Don't see it."
"Ouch. You wound me, Princess." He flicked a sugar packet at her.
"Well, someone has to tame that ego of yours," she replied as she deflected the projectile and sat next to Rossi. "Not like there's room on the jet for it."
"Indeed," Rossi said.
And when Spencer recounted the scene to Aaron as they were driving home, Aaron had to pull the car over to the side of the road because he was laughing so hard.
"You never cease to amaze me, Spencer Reid," Aaron said and then leaned over to kiss him.
"There are traffic cameras," Spencer said against Aaron's lips.
"I don't care."
***///*** Spencer Reid's Apartment ***///***
A cool breeze fanned across Spencer's chest rousing him from the last vestiges of a pleasant sleep. He cracked open an eye and blearily glanced over. Aaron was on his side, eyes sparkling mischievously, as his fingertips trailed lightly across Spencer's bare skin. He realized his pajama top had been unbuttoned and pushed open. Lately, Aaron had developed a thing for undressing him.
"Good morning," Aaron said softly.
"Morning," Spencer mumbled and closed his eyes again. They were on stand-down for the next five days and Aaron politely requested to stay with him last night. It had been charming. It had been flattering.
It had been one hell of a way to start the weekend.
Aaron nuzzled his ear. "I want to keep you in bed all morning."
His breath hitched, because, while Aaron had been decidedly more assertive lately (finally), he had never made such declarations before. Spencer murmured, "No arguments here."
"Good," Aaron breathed and then placed a kiss on Spencer's now bare shoulder.
Lips caressed his shoulder with an occasional flick of the tongue. It was more exploratory than rousing, as if Aaron were mapping his skin. Fingertips rough with gun calluses (sexier than they had any right to be, really) slid across his ribcage, circling his nipples before delivering a light pinch to each one.
"Love this," Spencer confessed, because his lover still sought some kind of permission. He felt, rather than saw, the smile against his skin.
"I know," was the response.
Fingers toyed with the elastic of his pajama bottoms and Spencer shimmied out of them quickly. He was rock hard in anticipation and gasped as Aaron pressed against him, warm and simply Aaron.
When soft fabric suddenly wrapped around his cock, Spencer inhaled sharply. Aaron knew his kinks as well as Spencer knew Aaron's. A handjob with silk was definitely one of them, but they hadn't done anything until, well, now. But the shape of the fabric was odd, more like a strip of cloth than something like boxers or a kerchief. It was also textured, not smooth.
"Oh, God. You're using your tie," Spencer blurted out as his cock throbbed hard. That was easily one of his top fantasies. He remembered admitting to it, embarrassed as all hell, six weeks ago, after Aaron had confessed a certain affection for Spencer's purple scarf.
"Two for one," Aaron murmured, smugness clear in his tone, and nipped his ear.
The fabric slinked around and cradled Spencer's balls. His whole body shivered and his dick began to ache. Pre-come dripped on his belly, another one of Aaron's admitted kinks. If his lover was going to play that kind of game, Spencer declared, "I could come right now."
That earned a hard squeeze to the base of his cock. "Not yet."
"You're going to tease me using the tie, making me beg until I can only get out monosyllabic words? Bring me to the edge before stopping, then fucking me hard and having me come while you're buried balls deep in me?" Spencer couldn't help but ask, knowing exactly how his lover would react; there was a swallowed groan and Spencer smirked. He kept his eyes closed to add to the thrill.
That was interesting. Spencer hummed a little before grinning. The tie snaked around his skin, and he clutched the sheets. If Aaron was willing to indulge him like this, then his purple scarf was definitely going to make an appearance this weekend. He wondered if he could blindfold Aaron with it, or maybe even tie his wrists to the bedposts. Neither were triggers for his lover that Spencer knew of, and (thankfully) navigating that path of landmines had become a bit easier.
But still… it was a tie.
"Which… which one is it?" Spencer stuttered because, damn, he knew he'd never be able to look at Aaron's ties the same way again. He could envision it now: roundtable meeting at the BAU, Aaron striding in wearing said neckwear, and Spencer coming in his pants without any external stimulation. He'd have to dump hot coffee on his crotch to cover the mess and would spend the rest of the day paranoid that everyone else in the room knew.
"One I bought specifically for you."
The silk drug across the tip of Spencer's cock, no doubt soaking up the pre-come. He let out a groan. It was then wrapped around the base of his cock and slid under his balls again, gently pulling them together as the end of the tie flopped against Spencer's hip.
Then Aaron added nonchalantly, "The pattern is Fibonacci spirals."
Spencer's eyes flew open. He propped himself up on his elbows and was unable to resist looking down. The body of the fabric was dark plum with silver-gray threads as the pattern. It was certainly a tie that Aaron would never wear but one that could easily be in Spencer's collection.
"You found a tie with Fibonacci spirals," Spencer said, awed. He was mesmerized by the way Aaron used it to caress him.
"The internet is an amazing place."
There was erotic, and then there was intellectual and erotic.
He grabbed Aaron's wrist and pushed until Aaron was flat on his back, and straddled him. He pinned one of Aaron's arms over his head while holding the other against Aaron's side. Sure Aaron could break the hold at any time, but (as usual) he allowed Spencer control. Spencer then kissed him thoroughly, not caring that the tie had now tangled around both their cocks.
"I can't believe you did that," he breathed against Aaron's lips. Aaron laughed and pushed against Spencer, but didn't put much force behind it. It was as if he were testing boundaries.
"You bought highball glasses for the bourbon you keep here for me."
Spencer stared at him before shaking his head. "It's not the same, and you know it."
"Actually, it is." Aaron's grin went back to predatory, easily breaking Spencer's grip, and, of all the damn things, began tickling him. Spencer yelped but retaliated with a few well-placed tickles of his own. There was this one spot on the eighth intercostal space that, when flicked just right, caused Aaron to make the most unmanly sound—a high-pitched yipe that would have their colleagues stunned.
It was game-on after that.
Spencer wasn't sure how long they went after each other with aggressive playfulness as well as caution… they were naked and there were sheets and a tie involved. He'd never before wrestled in bed and given what he knew about Aaron's history, it was doubtful that Aaron had either. They were gasping and laughing, an amazing joyous feeling that Spencer never had before.
He found himself facedown on the mattress, Aaron's entire body pressing against his back, hard cock nestled firmly against his ass. They were both panting heavily, a fine sheen of sweat coating them when Aaron placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss on the nape of Spencer's neck.
"I want you," Aaron told him.
Spencer wriggled his ass. "Take me."
Aaron ran his mouth across his shoulders, licking and placing light bites as he went. "I want… I want to try something."
Spencer looked over his shoulder and found Aaron's dark eyes watching him carefully. He didn't have to say I'll let you know if something bothers me. He simply had to nod. Trust was a wondrous thing.
Aaron's smile was back again, and he resumed his kisses, shifting to where he was no longer pressing completely down on Spencer, but straddling his thighs. Strong hands caressed his shoulders and along his spine, followed by more kisses, licks, and nips. It wasn't all that unusual. They had given each other massages before. There had also been a few times when Aaron had gotten off by thrusting his cock between Spencer's thighs or between his ass cheeks.
It didn't stop Spencer from voicing encouragement. Aaron worked his way down Spencer's spine, fingers stroking his sides, his ass. It was this point—Aaron's tongue at the base of Spencer's back and the beginning of his ass crack—where Aaron would stop. This time, Aaron wordlessly prodded Spencer to his knees and loosely wrapped the tie—and how he managed to keep track of it was nothing short of amazing—around Spencer's cock.
Then Aaron spread his ass cheeks, his thumbs brushing across Spencer's hole. Spencer shuddered because his lover was quite skilled at fingering him. He almost reached for the lube before realizing that he was facing the bottom of the bed. That's when he felt Aaron's tongue. There. Doing things that he never thought Aaron would ever, well, be interested in trying out.
Spencer wasn't sure what kind of sound he made because it stuck in his throat when Aaron licked. He managed to get out an "oh yes, please," clutching the sheets because of the intensity. While he had performed analingus on Aaron several times, there had never been an expectation to reciprocate. There hadn't even been a discussion about it, just one of those unspoken things between them. Spencer recognized the pattern easily, the one he tended to use on Aaron.
In the throes of passion, his lover paid attention.
"You're gonna tease me until I beg to come, aren't you?"
That earned a hum followed by another thorough lick.
"You know… I could retaliate… ah! Please… yes. Yes. Not fair… I could… Oh, God! You're fucking me with your tongue." Spencer fisted the sheets and pressed his head to the mattress. He shivered as Aaron continued with an enthusiasm and…dedication was the wrong word but damn that's what it was.
As a matter of fact, that's precisely who his lover was. A dedicated, do-it-right-or-don't-do-it-at-all kind of man, generous and loving. Passionate as hell.
"I'm gonna come…" Spencer moaned and was rewarded with another hard squeeze to the base of his cock.
For the love of the deities that Spencer pointedly didn't believe in, he swore he heard a wicked tone in Aaron's voice. "Not yet."
"You're gonna make me beg?" he asked breathlessly and decided to remind Aaron just who he was dealing with. "You do know I am a…Oh God!" because the combination of Aaron's tongue thrusting and the tie around his dick temporarily short-circuited his speech.
Aaron chuckled. "Yes, you are a god."
"You want me to stop?"
"Only if you'll fuck me."
"That's so not fair."
"Not fair would be me stopping, right?" Aaron taunted. Spencer gasped as Aaron's thumb began rubbing his entrance with firm, yet rousing strokes. Aaron's voice was low, teasing. "You know? I can probably make you come right now without even touching your cock."
"Eidetic memory. I'll get you back when you least expect it."
That earned a playful bite on his ass. "I dare you."
"Oh, you are so going to pay for this."
"I'm counting on it," Aaron replied with lusty confidence and resumed tongue-fucking him.
He shuddered and found himself moaning, "Please, yes please" as his grip tightened on the sheets.
Aaron delivered a few light bites to his ass cheeks before licking and kissing his way up Spencer's spine. He pushed Spencer's legs apart a bit more and began rubbing against Spencer's hole. It was slick and, for a moment, Spencer wondered where the hell Aaron had hidden the lube. Maybe the man had cleverly concealed it in the sheets since, clearly, he had this entire scenario mapped out. It made Spencer moan again and Aaron's finger pushed into him further.
"Fuck!" he cried out.
Aaron kissed his shoulder blades and added a second finger, pulling Spencer until he was almost sitting up. "I love watching you," Aaron murmured in his ear, "seeing this side of you."
"Fuck me, please," Spencer groaned. When he felt the third finger press against him, he shook his head. "Now. Please. Please fuck me now."
"I don't want to—"
Spencer opened his eyes. He looked directly into the mirror he knew instinctively Aaron had moved so that he could watch. He met Aaron's gaze. "I'm ready, Aaron. Fuck me. Hard. Make me scream your name when I come as you're pounding deep into me. Take me. Now."
Aaron's eyes glinted with the possessiveness that Spencer coveted. He slid his fingers out and moved closer, his bare cock brushing against Spencer's hole. Negotiating condomless sex had been a challenge, especially when Aaron had gone into attorney-mode to argue the cons. Spencer eventually won, although there were quite a few caveats in place, stipulations that were more commonsense given the nature of their jobs than anything else.
Still, up until this moment, Aaron had always asked if it was okay. Spencer felt like it was a small victory that they'd gotten over that hurdle as well.
Aaron's hands moved to where one rested against Spencer's chest, fingers tugging hard on Spencer's nipple, while the other guided his cock. Spencer felt the tip against him and pushed back. Then, Aaron's other hand grabbed Spencer's hip and pulled him back, hard, until Aaron was fully inside him.
Spencer gasped, "Yes."
Aaron began thrusting slowly, changing angles until he hit that sweet spot and Spencer shook with arousal. His hand then slid along Spencer's hip, grasping the soft silk of the tie, and began stroking.
"Look at us," Aaron commanded softly with the sexy, authoritative tone he only used in the bedroom and Spencer obeyed. He was expecting to see something kind of silly: skinny white guy with a crazy tie wrapped around his cock while his lover watched from behind. But it wasn't silly.
It was sexy.
It was, perhaps, the most erotic sight Spencer had ever seen.
"Look at us," Aaron repeated. At first, Spencer didn't get it. Then he looked again.
His breath caught.
It was like the first time he fully accepted that Aaron loved him. That it wasn't something uttered during an orgasm. This whole thing now? Aaron didn't see them as "individuals," but as an "us."
"I love us," Aaron continued, breath warm against Spencer's ear. "You know that right? I love us and I want us." From a man who held his emotional cards tightly to his chest, it was a declaration of profound magnitude. One said during an intimate act that was impossible to argue… the only option was to simply accept.
And, for once in his life, the terror Spencer associated with something on this level ceased to exist.
"I know," Spencer whispered, closing his eyes and leaning back to rest his head on Aaron's shoulder, exposing his throat and presenting himself as physically vulnerable as he felt emotionally. He curled a hand around Aaron's neck. "I want us, too."
The pace continued slowly, building the fire along Spencer's nerves. Aaron began nuzzling his neck and thrusting faster, driving in to Spencer as he continued to work Spencer's cock teasingly with the silk, and alternating between nipples with the pinching and rubbing. Spencer's breath sped up, his body shaking from the sensual overload.
It was almost… too much. Spencer couldn't focus, which he supposed was the point of it all, but it was also overwhelming. His skin suddenly became hypersensitive and he cried out, slamming a palm down on Aaron's thigh, stuttering out, "Too much! Too much…"
Immediately, Aaron stopped. "Spence…"
"Shh…" he managed to get out as he kept rocking against Aaron's cock. He pushed Aaron's hands until they were both wrapped around his dick, and he tossed the tie away. With his own hand settled on top of Aaron's, he squeezed until the pressure was tight, not teasing. "Fuck me," he panted. "Fuck me and jerk me off hard."
There was the slightest pause and Aaron began to counter his thrusts. It was slow, no where near the intensity of before. Usually, Spencer would opt for verbal encouragement, but he knew that was likely to spook Aaron even more.
He opened his eyes.
He looked directly into the mirror.
He caught Aaron's gaze, the uncertainty and insecurity blazing in his eyes.
Spencer's words were low, hungry. "It was sensory overload. No one has ever done that to me or for me before. It was erotic. It was incredible. I just wasn't gonna be able to come. I want us, Aaron. Please."
Aaron's eyes narrowed since it was obvious what Spencer was trying to do—reassure him—and placed a gentle kiss on Spencer's nape as if to say I never want to hurt you.
"I know," Spencer breathed. "Please. Please don't stop." Then…
Aaron began moving in earnest. Slow at first, those tentative thrusts and changing of positions until Spencer made the appropriate sound. Once that happened, one hand wound in Spencer's hair (a first) while the other continued to work his cock. Spencer tried his best to give nonverbal cues that it was good, but when Aaron hit that sweet spot, combined with tugging just right on his cock, he cried out, "Oh, fuck me! Yes!" Apparently, that was all the permission Aaron needed and his pace increased.
Spencer gripped Aaron's thighs to keep his balance, tilting his head back. Spencer knew that Aaron would go to his grave before admitting how much that simple gesture meant, but it always sparked the most intense result. Aaron began pounding in to him, teeth briefly sinking into Spencer's shoulder.
"I want to watch you come," Aaron growled.
"Yes," Spencer breathed as his body thrummed closer to the edge. "Close. So close."
"Come for me," he ordered.
That was all that it took.
Spencer's orgasm hit and he closed his eyes. He called out his lover's name as his back arched, and his body shook from the intensity. Aaron pounded him through it wordlessly, but Spencer knew that he was watching.
"So good," Aaron panted. "So good." His hand released Spencer's now flaccid, yet sensitive cock, moving to grip his shoulder almost as tightly as the hand in Spencer's hair. His face was pressed hard against Spencer's, his breathing harsh and erratic.
Spencer slowly opened his eyes. Aaron's were shut tightly, lips pressed together. His lover was on the edge of orgasm, straining… pushing to reach for it. It had only happened a few times; Aaron worked up so much that he couldn't get off. It frustrated the hell out of him and inevitably led to a sharp argument. The last thing that Spencer wanted was for this to happen now… not after such a successful experiment.
Suddenly, "I need to see you." Quietly.
Aaron abruptly stopped and looked at him. "Of course."
It took only moments for them to reposition, Spencer finding himself at the top of the bed, head cushioned by pillows. Aaron shifted so that Spencer's legs were up and on his shoulders. One of Aaron's hands latched onto the headboard, the other tangled in Spencer's hair.
"Please," Spencer whispered.
Aaron pushed back in. His forehead rested on Spencer's collarbone and he revealed in a hushed tone, "I love watching," as he slowly began fucking him again.
"Do you like this?"
"Yes. Please. Don't stop. I want to feel you."
"Wanna come so bad," Aaron grunted as he sped his thrusts.
Spencer slid his hands down to Aaron's ass and pulled forward. "C'mon," he urged.
"Come for us, Aaron," Spencer looked directly into Aaron's eyes.
"Fuck… Fuck…" He jabbed his hips hard, biting on his lower lip, as a sound rumbled up in his throat and his chest flushed darker. He let go of Spencer's hair and now gripped both hands on the headboard, using it for leverage as he drove deeper…
"Come for us."
"Oh, God… Oh, God!" Aaron's body jerked hard. His mouth opened. He choked out Spencer's name.
"That's it. That's it. Let go."
"I'm… I'm…" He went still. He held his breath.
Spencer could feel the finer tremors that washed over Aaron as his lover climaxed and collapsed bonelessly on top of him. Spencer reached up and ran his hands through Aaron's sweat-soaked locks. Gently. Slowly. Taking in how hard Aaron's heart was hammering, how he panted down from the orgasmic high as he clutched Spencer tightly. The whispered words of love mixed with his name and the two-letter pronoun that now defined them.
Aaron slowly slid out, planting small kisses on Spencer's shoulder as he did. He reached over the side of the bed and dropped a washcloth onto Spencer's groin.
Spencer couldn't help but chuckle, "There is a French term used to describe ejaculation, la petite mort."
"Petite?" Aaron echoed quietly in mock disbelief. "If that was petite…"
"It was anything but petite," he shot back with a laugh. "Thank you."
And just like Aaron had wanted, they stayed in bed all morning.
Spencer relished every moment of it and he was convinced Aaron had done the same.
He didn't know that in three days, everything would change.
In three days, they would be called to Detroit. They would meet William Hightower on a tireless quest to find his sister. They would end up in Sarnia, Ontario, and make a gruesome discovery that would leave them all questioning why they did what they did. Spencer and Aaron wordlessly would agree to go home separately the night they got back to Quantico because there were still some things that they preferred to deal with on their own, and they understood that. And…
Foyet would attack, and he would murder the man that Spencer was with that morning. Not Aaron Hotchner—the father of Jack, or Hotch—the federal agent. No. The man who had been Spencer's playful lover, who trusted Spencer unequivocally with secrets, who bared his soul, would cease to exist.
Spencer didn't believe in resurrection. He certainly didn't believe in life after death. He would learn to forever hate "Humpty Dumpty" because in their relationship, he had become all the king's horses and all the king's men...and for the life of him, he didn't know how to put Aaron Hotchner back together again.
***///*** Finis ***///***