Chapter 3 – Reid
He lay there sweating and gasping off to the side as Hotch slowly removed himself from Dave's body. There was a low barely audible slurk as they separated and then they were free, and Hotch dumped himself unceremoniously on the bed between him and Dave.
Spencer could see it all in his mind; the image of Dave's wet hole, probably leaking cum after being plowed into so furiously by Hotch. All of a sudden, it wasn't enough to imagine it, to think how it must look; not when he could crawl over them himself and see it—and touch it for his own self. A warm feeling rippled through his groin, and he breathed in a shuddering breath at the thought.
Sitting up, he began crawling around the tangle of legs and feet that was beside him, barely acknowledging Aaron's strange questioning look as he plopped himself in between Dave's still spread thighs. He was right. Dave's hole was red and just a little swollen looking; the lips of his rectum glistening with a combination of lube and Hotch's own fluids. He reached out a finger and traced it over the edge of Dave's hole, not prepared for the way the older man would flinch, and certainly not prepared for the low groan that made it out of his body at Reid's touch.
And he wondered—he scooted down a bit further so that his chest was on the bed and his face was directly in front of that lovely hole, and he hesitantly licked just the tip of his tongue over the other man's hole.
"Fuck, Spencer!" Dave wheezed from above his head, his entire lower half jumping at his action.
Reid had read about other people doing such a thing, about rimming and about felching and what it was, but he had never seen such a man like Rossi give such a visceral reaction to something like this. He wondered what would happen if he . . .
"Holy God!" Rossi nearly screamed as he sucked at the older man's hole, tasting him and Hotch together, nibbling at the well fucked muscle. His hand crept up to rest on Dave's abdomen, and then press against it as he sought to keep him in place as he continued licking and sucking his flesh and Hotch's ejaculatory fluids into his mouth.
"Turn over," he barked and he felt Dave trying to move, trying to follow his instruction, but still too tired to do so; his body sweating and flinching anew after what must have been a very incredible orgasm just those moments before.
"Hotch," Reid said instead, licking a line from Rossi's ass to his balls, and he looked up and saw his unit chief staring back at him with wide, shocked brown eyes, and he smiled at the sight. "Turn him over."
With Hotch's help, they rolled Rossi over on his stomach, and with a few well placed nudges, Dave was soon was on his knees, presenting his ass for Reid's continued inspection. The older man started shaking when he started licking him again, sucking at his hole and humming appreciatively the entire while.
After several minutes, he finally stopped and Dave collapsed onto his stomach, his fingers and toes twitching, even after Reid was done touching him.
Spencer was hard again. He felt Hotch looking at him appraisingly and he smiled back with newly found confidence. Carefully sliding his body in between Dave and Hotch's warm bodies, he lay back beside the barely conscious Dave and looked suggestively up at his unit chief.
Raising an eyebrow at Dave's slumped form, Hotch said, "And you've never done this before?" His voice was faintly amused, and quite possibly aroused as well.
"Never," he breathed back, reaching out a hand to gently stroke across Hotch's well defined chest.
Hotch followed his hand's downwards progression with an intense expression, giving only a slight sigh when Spencer reached his groin and wrapped around his still soft cock.
"I've dreamed about this for years," he whispered, pushing his face into Hotch's neck and nipping lightly at the skin just above the older man's collarbone.
"Touching me? Or any man?" Hotch asked in a low gravelly voice.
"I thought I just wanted you to hold me, for you to wrap your arms around me and say you wanted me. It wasn't until later that it turned into a bit of a sexual fantasy," Reid said, laughing against Hotch's adam's apple, his hand now beginning to stroke the older man's cock lightly.
Hotch stroked the back of his fingers against Spencer's cheek, and he had to duck his head to hide his suddenly tearful eyes.
"Shh," Hotch said, knowing him already, the same as always. Reid felt slightly chapped lips touch themselves to his forehead, and then his cheek and neck. "Shh," he heard Hotch repeat before biting down on his neck and sucking his skin hard.
He gasped, arching up into Hotch's stomach; groaning as the head of his cock rubbed across the dark fuzz on the older man's abdomen. One of Hotch's strong legs wedged between his thighs, and he gasped as he was made vulnerable before him. He felt Hotch's hand stroking his chest, rubbing over his nipples, and he squirmed as the sensations began pouring straight into his groin.
Hotch let go of his neck, leaving a wet reddened mark on his skin, and suddenly the man's lips were on his ear, biting on his lobe and he let out a low whimper at the feeling.
"Maybe we should call Morgan," Hotch hissed, pulling another whimper from Reid's throat at the idea. "Let him hear you crying out as I touch you, hear you bucking wantonly up against me," He said, kissing a line up his jaw.
"H-Hotch," he cried out, wanting the older man's hand on his cock, wanting both his hands, wanting his mouth. The thought of him sucking hard on his cock made him shiver and Hotch stopped for a moment and stared hard at him, dark eyes boring straight into his brain, into his soul.
"Please," he whispered, pinching the skin on Hotch's biceps as he felt a calloused thumb rub roughly over the head of his cock.
"Please!" He groaned after that thumb was replaced with a fingernail.
"What do you want?" That growling quality was back in Hotch's voice and he flung his head back, feeling his hair sticking to the sweat on his neck, on his shoulders. He felt open, exposed to the older man; he felt needy and he felt out of control.
"I want," he licked his lips as he felt a finger press itself lightly between his balls, and he groaned. "I want your mouth, please, your mouth," he said, grinding back against Hotch.
And suddenly there was a body sliding down his; large hands stroking over his hips, finding ticklish spots that he hadn't even been aware of. There was hot breath on him and then his head hit the pillow hard as he felt himself sucked into the warm cavern of Hotch's mouth.
It didn't take much; he was far too tightly wound for it to take much, far too close to the edge to even think about not tipping over. And seeing Hotch's swallowing around him, seeing his boss, his mentor sucking him down; his eyes staring up at him, intent on figuring him out as though he were the fucking unsub, it was all too much for him to withstand. He came with a hoarse cry, jerking up and slumping over Hotch's head as he came hard; white lights flaring in his retinas, pleasure singing down his nerves of his arms and legs.
He was barely aware when Hotch gently leaned him back on the bed, stretching him out next to a deeply sleeping Dave. The lights went out then; he could tell even though his eyelids were still closed.
"Hotch," he managed to whisper.
"Hm?" Deep voice next to him; a rustling sound down by his feet and then he felt covers being pulled up around his chest. A warm body slipped in next to his side, hemming him in between Dave, and Hotch slipping an arm over his chest; squeezing him tight, making him feel safe.
I love you. Thank you. You're everything I ever wanted, he wanted to say, but couldn't.
"That was really, really . . ." he yawned, blinking into the dark room briefly before pushing his head against Hotch's chest.
"Sh," Hotch shushed him, placing a kiss on his head and stroking a hand down his face.
He nodded. There was so much he wanted to say, but sleep was quickly making him lose the ability to do anything more than close his eyes and curl up in the embrace that was so conveniently holding onto him.
. . .
They spent most of the next day swimming and watching movies—Hotch had been adamant about not watching Star Trek movies; so they had compromised with the original Star Wars set.
He had honestly been surprised at how attentive Hotch could be regarding non-work activities. Whether it was fixing lunch for them, or wrestling Reid down to the ground to tickle him, or just being with Dave and him together, Hotch gave all of himself and more with his familiar single mindedness that he recognized from being on cases with him.
They had been napping in Dave and Hotch's bed that afternoon when Reid had awoken to feel a hand trailing down his leg. He opened his eyes to find Dave and Hotch both sitting up on either side of him, and he licked his lips in nervous anticipation at what their intense expressions meant for him.
"What's happening?" He couldn't help but ask.
"Don't worry kid," Dave answered in a soothing voice, leaning over to pet his face with a calloused hand. "We just think it's time that we gave you the rest of the tour."
On his other side, he heard Hotch snort at Dave's wording, and he tentatively smiled back.
"You were talking about this while I was asleep?"
"Actually," Hotch explained in his lowest voice, "We were both admiring how beautiful you looked, relaxed and spread out between us."
He shivered at his friend's words. He was definitely not prepared to hear the word 'beautiful' come from Hotch's mouth; especially not in reference to him.
"Beautiful?" He whispered, his thoughts jumping ahead of his brain before he could call them back.
Something softened in Hotch's eyes, but it was Dave who spoke first. "Sure Spencer," he said, gazing down at him seriously. "I don't know how it is that we were lucky enough to have gotten to you first," Dave said, kissing him softly on his lips.
He shook his head in confusion. Surely Dave was mistaken—or at the very least playing some kind of strange joke. They couldn't actually think that way about him.
"Let us show you then," Hotch responded quietly, easily reading the denial in his eyes and face.
He nodded, having nothing better to say.
And so it began anew. Hotch sunk to his navel, pushing up his shirt gently and laving his abdomen and sternum with a line of delicate kisses, while Dave continued what he had previously started by kissing his mouth again. Unlike the previous night, this wasn't frantic in the least. It was tender and it was soft, and it made his insides flutter in amazement.
His shirt was being pushed up further, and then it was off and Hotch began drawing shapes on him with just the tip of his tongue, pulling a gasp of ticklish surprise from his throat. Dave caught his mouth again and was opening it up, pushing his tongue further in, seemingly mapping the hidden crevices under his tongue and back in between his cheeks and teeth. He shuddered as he felt the older man's tongue flick over his gums at the back of his mouth; he hadn't even known that he was sensitive there.
He heard rustling and felt the other two men pushing their own clothing off, and suddenly he felt hands on his trousers, and cooler air touching his thighs and legs. Hotch's hands were hot on his ass, and realized with a start that his underwear was gone now too, and holy—is that Hotch poking me in the side? His mind whirled loudly in surprise.
He was being turned over, being so carefully moved that he felt like a priceless piece of art, and now he could feel Dave's goatee around wet lips as it moved down his spine. Strong hands were lifting him, and suddenly he felt the coolness of a new surface appear under his stomach as someone slid a pillow under him. He could feel his ass in the air, and there was a snap somewhere from behind him, and he made himself breathe as he felt a slick finger circling his rectum, rubbing over the tight ring of muscle there.
"Sh," Hotch whispered roughly in his ear, and instinctively he knew he had to relax, but knowing and doing were always different things for him, and he gasped aloud at the sensation of just one finger moving slowly into him.
He felt Dave's breath against the side of his head, murmuring reassurances into ear, and he felt the older man's hands on his back, stroking and kneading their way into his tense muscles; making him relax under their continued assault of his body's anxiety over what was going to happen.
A hot hand chose that moment to stroke its way down his cock and suddenly the intrusion in his ass wasn't as noticeable, wasn't as apparent as his mind locked onto the pleasure being pulled from a different part of him.
He barely felt it as a second finger was added, but he noticed when they began to scissor within him, opening him up for more. The thoughts that were pounding inside his brain were almost too much to manage, and he pushed his face against the cool sheets under him and moaned.
Hotch is going to fuck me, Hotch is really going to fuck me! He could hear bleating in his head, and he moaned again as something hot and wet encircled one of his balls.
"Shit!" He cried out, opening his eyes briefly and seeing Dave's ass up where his head had been previously.
Dave's mouth, Dave's mouth—was his new internal monolog. The intensity of the new sensations was nearly blowing his mind.
Three fingers—fuck—he thought as a hot tongue licked a stripe up his cock, effectively distracting him from what Hotch was doing to his ass.
"Spencer," Hotch panted, "Spencer, Spencer," a hand on his back, practically petting him, and he found he didn't mind in the least, didn't mind—and suddenly those fingers in his ass were gone and he struggled to breathe against the weight of the knowledge of what was happening next.
"Sh," once more against his back, and then he felt a blunt nudge against his ass, and his breath caught in his throat as he tried to find something to hang onto. A calloused hand found his own; and belatedly he realized that Dave had oriented himself back upright.
"Spencer," Dave whispered, stroking his face with the hand not still being squeezed in Reid's own tight grip.
He shuddered as Hotch continued pushing in; no longer positive he could take the intrusion into his body.
"Push out, Spencer," Dave advised, and he opened his eyes to find the other man staring steadily at him, encouraging him silently on.
He grunted, but did as the man had instructed, and almost immediately the progression of Hotch's cock was eased, and he managed to let out the breath that had been trying to strangle him. He felt the Hotch's balls touch his ass, and the man paused over him as he waited for Spencer to adjust.
"You can do this, Spencer," Hotch said in a rough voice, a slick hand pushing down his cock, reawakening his pleasure and reminding him why he was bothering to try this at all.
He felt Hotch's stubbled cheek come down to rest on his shoulder, and felt a strong arm wrap itself around his chest.
"You are beautiful," Hotch intoned deeply into his skin, making him shake and close his eyes against the insistent tears that bloomed in his eyes at the man's repeated sentiment.
The cock in his ass began moving slightly out and he fought with himself to stay immobile, to stay relaxed as it did. Slightly in again, and he made himself breathe again. Rubbing his face against the sheets distracted him as Hotch continued to move inside him, pulling out a bit more with each new thrust.
The motions were getting easier as he continued to relax and adjust to the new sensations rubbing inside him. It wasn't until he shifted a bit, trying to find some kind of friction for his cock, that he accidentally changed angles. Abruptly something pulsated through his mid-section and he gasped at the feeling, causing Hotch to stop moving altogether.
"Pr-Prostate," he managed to stutter out, silently willing Hotch to hit that spot again.
Another two thrusts and that spot flexed out pleasure through him once more, causing flashes of light to explode in his eyes. His cock had softened a bit from the steady not-quite discomfort of having Hotch inside him, but now it was fully awake and straining upwards again.
"Dave," Hotch grunted as they picked up speed now, pulling out nearly to his full length and then sliding back in steadily, yet somehow still managing to be gentle about it.
Hotch, he thought, still trying to hump the bed as they moved and rocked together.
The arm around his mid-section squeezed him, pulling him backwards farther as Hotch continued to steadily fuck his way into Spencer's heart and being. Surprisingly, Dave moved in front of him then, pulling the pillow away from his underside and pushing it under his own back, before proceeding to spread his legs around him and Hotch's still moving bodies.
Hotch thrust up into him hard, nearly pushing him up off the bed, and he could hear harsh breaths in his ear and in his chest, and it just added to the excitement, the incredible pleasure that he was getting from what was happening. His eyes dropped down to where Dave was laid out before him, and he groaned at the sight of Dave finger fucking himself; the lube bottle clearly visible out beside him, and he leaned back into Hotch's sweat slicked chest.
"Is he?" He managed to say in the general direction of Hotch's ear.
"He wants you to fuck him, Spencer," Hotch panted with a low growl that he could feel more than hear.
"Oh god," he cried out as Dave scooted forwards once more, wiping lube down his cock, threatening to make him explode before ever getting to the other man's ass.
Then that arm around his chest was pushing him forwards, and he caught himself on his arms on either side of Dave's own heaving chest, and he caught the older man's lip in between his own, sucking hard.
Hotch was still fucking him, the endorphins were now flowing without control through his body as he managed to get his hand on his own slick cock; guiding it slowly into the flexing heat of Dave. Time slowed as he became seated inside the other man, his mind blissfully free of conflicting thoughts as he felt the molten heat slide and pulsate around him.
He was being moved, more than he was moving; Hotch pushing into him, and in turn he felt himself pushing into Dave, and he gasped as the dual experiences. His prostate was being manipulated by the feel of Hotch against it, and his cock was getting squeezed in Dave, and he really couldn't think anymore, his mind far too caught up in the pleasure that was warring inside him, back to front, front to back.
Dave caught his mouth again, just as his orgasm began teetering, just as the feelings reached new plateaus within his poor overwhelmed body. Dave's hand in his hair, and he whined as that only added to everything, and Hotch thumb flicking over his nipples and stroking down his sternum, ticklish and incredible and it was too much.
Hotch groaned low in his ear, and that was all it took. Bright lights flashed in his eyes, in his skin, in his fucking nerves, and he screamed, arching up hard into Dave and pushing his back into Hotch, who caught him and held him tight. His orgasm caused all of his muscles to tense and convulse, and he was coming so hard he couldn't see.
Less than a heartbeat later, Hotch was gripping tightly enough to leave bruises, sinking his teeth into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, and he could feel himself being filled as he filled Dave.
And the moment broke, dropping them down heavily on the bed, gasping and shuddering and the last thing he saw before passing out was the image of Dave jerking himself off and then exploding onto his face with a grunt.
. . .
He awoke sometime later, his ass empty and a bit sore, but his body still awash in the leftover high of the incredible orgasm that overtook him at the end.
"Spencer?" Soft voice that seemed to belong to Hotch and he blinked in that direction, hearing a low chuckle at his obvious detachment from the world around him.
"Drink some water," Dave's voice, and he obediently opened his mouth, taking in the cool liquid gratefully a few sips at a time and then slumping back down.
"I did okay?" He managed to whisper, hearing it coming almost from outside his body.
"You did great," Hotch reassured, pressing a light kiss on his forehead. "Our beautiful boy," Hotch added, and he felt the ticklish feel of Dave's mouth kissing his cheek too.
"Sleep, Spencer," one of them said and he nodded, sliding back down into oblivion, the feeling of arms around his shoulders, keeping him safe.