Title: Triggers & Ties 8.5: Interlude

Author: Kuria Dalmatia

Rating/Warnings: Oh so NC-17

Characters/Pairing: Hotch/Reid

Summary: "You're only allowed to use your hands."

Word Count: ~620

ARCHIVING: my LJ... 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: June 2010. Blame the good drugs.

TIMELINES/SPOILERS: T&T Universe, post T&T 8: Eggshells. CM S5.

***/***

Spence always knows how to squeeze the head of Aaron's cock just right.

Thumb over the slit, circling the crown, and down the shaft. Aaron leaned back against the pillows, spreading his legs just a little more, and turning so Spence couldn't nibble on his earlobe like he liked to do.

"Stroke me," Aaron commanded softly. "That's it. You know how. You like using the olive oil because it's heavier, slicker. Fuck, yeah. Just like that." His arousal was frustratingly sluggish like it had been since…

Do not think. Feel.

"C'mon," he growled, and the grip tightened appropriately. He kept his eyes closed. "I know you want to suck me. It's why you're using the oil. You like the taste…" He arched a little on the down stroke. "You have to use your hands. Just your hands. Yeah. C'mon. Work my cock." Fingers drifted down and kneaded his balls rougher than usual, but God just right. Aaron pulled his knees apart even wider, groaning. "Harder," he demanded. "Make me feel it." Because the feather-light touches were now something of the past.

Feel. Feel it.

"You want to finger me, don't you?" he asked. "Work your finger in me to hit that sweet spot. Flick it until I'm panting your name? But that would be the easy way, wouldn't it? No. You have to use your hands. Just your hands. On my dick. Work it. C'mon. Work it hard."

The pace increased. The pressure increased. Aaron's hips jerked. In one fluid motion, he sat up on his haunches. No longer leaning on the pillows, but kneeling in the middle of his bed as he kept his eyes squeezed shut because it was always better that way. He thrust in to those oiled hands which adjusted the grip as he moved.

"Just your hands on my cock," Aaron ordered because he knew that Spencer wanted to pinch his nipples, bite his throat, lick his spine... "Nowhere else."

Spence knew the rules. He was good at obeying them. And, God, that knowledge felt incredible as it manifested in to that sharp twist of lust that shot through Aaron's spine and to his groin. He moaned, biting his lips because finallyfinallyfinally things were working again.

Don't concentrate on that. Just feel. Feel.

"Harder." The tugging on his cock was on the threshold of discomfort but Aaron's nerve ending began to sing… sing… sing that melody of .

"I said, harder."

There. There. That pull. The pressure on the tip of his cock. The tight grip on his balls. Ferocious almost. Centering.

"Gonna…" Aaron breathed. A warning. But Spence would know how close he was. Spence always knew just how to work him. Just how. Just the way. Just everything about his body.

Finally. Finally.

"Fuck!" He definitely shouted that out as the orgasm suddenly surged and burned through him.

He pumped his hips hard, pitching forward and losing his balance, but not caring because finallyfinallyfinally after fifty-seven days, his body gave him release.

His come felt thick, more viscous that he'd ever remembered. The palm it coated was now near his lips. "Yes, I'll taste," Aaron breathed. "I know how much it turns you on when I do."

He licked slowly despite it tasting bitter, sour. The lecture about his diet, how he was never to eat asparagus if he wanted a blowjob because apparently he was one of those people whose body converted aparagus to S-methyl thioacrylate and S-methyl 3-(methylthio)thiopropionate, floated in his mind.

Still. He used his tongue. He sucked the fingers. He knew exactly how Spence liked things done. And when he was finished, Aaron opened his eyes.

His bedroom was empty.

He didn't care.

Finally. Finally, he came.

***/***