Title: Broken Wings
Warnings: R (reference to past rape, slash)
Summary: "I'll fix these broken things, repair your broken wings and make sure everything's alright. My pressure on your hips, sinking my fingertips into every inch of you 'cause I know that's what you want me to do." Written for HotchxReid Prompt Meme II.
Word count: ~1500
DISCLAIMER: The Mark Gordon Company, ABC Studios and CBS Paramount Network Television own Criminal Minds. I just took them out to play and I promise put them back when I'm done.
AN: It's one of those: she sat and smut she wrote and she totally blames it on listening to Phantom of the Opera over and over.
"I'll fix these broken things, repair your broken wings and make sure everything's alright. My pressure on your hips, sinking my fingertips into every inch of you 'cause I know that's what you want me to do."
When your patient is bleeding out on you, you fix what you see and what you see is blood-loss, is nine stab wounds, what you don't notice is the bruises, remains of dried semen. You don't notice it because your patient is not a woman but a Caucasian man in his early to mid forties, physically fit, good looking, with short hair. Men like him don't get raped, they just don't... except they do but the stigma associated with being raped keeps them from reporting the rape. That's why no one ordered the rape kit and if there was no rape kit then there is no indication of rape in his medical files and what's not on medical file is not in the official report of the incident.
Officially George Foyet stabbed Aaron Hotchner nine times, that's what's on record. What isn't is what he had done after he subdued him and prevented him from defending himself and that's what only George Foyet, who is dead, and Aaron Hotchner, who is on the verge of a panic attack, ready to throw the man above him on the floor before he would bolt from his own bedroom.
All of this goes through Spencer's mind in a matter of around seven seconds, from the effect to the cause and it takes almost all of his willpower to not bolt out of the room himself in order to dig up the fucker to resurrect him and beat him to death again. He wants to do that but instead he slides back on the top of the covers next to Hotch who is staring at him with that terrifying mixture of humiliation, fear and gratitude in his wide open eyes.
Spencer swallows because even though he is a genius he doesn't know what to do because it's just... nothing in Foyet's profile had indicated bisexuality... and then there is that very selfish thought that it wasn't supposed to end this way.
He was always attracted to Hotch even though for years he had done his damnest best so not even a hint of suspicions would cross anyone's mind, least of all Hotch's, Hotch who was married and heterosexual, Hotch who was going through a hellish divorce because even though the divorce papers were signed uncontested it didn't mean that the separation from his beloved wife and his son wasn't easy on him, aside of Hotch himself no one like Spencer knows how hard it was on him.
And as the years passed his attraction didn't go away like it had done in precious few cases in Spencer's youth. It was still there after a year, after three, five, seven, nearly eight years. It didn't lessen, instead it grew, matured and just as he resolved that he would spend the rest of his life in celibacy oh so slowly Hotch started showing signs of interest himself, small signs, innocent signs, those which could be mistaken for friendly affection but as the time passed Hotch grew bolder in his courtship.
If it wasn't for that, if Hotch himself was uninterested in something more than friendship from Spencer then there wouldn't be where they were. If Hotch wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship with Spencer he wouldn't have spend the evening at wooing Spencer and there was really no other word for that, for the level of Hotch's focus on him.
This and now was the exact opposite of then and there.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
"Please," snaps Spencer out of his stupor and suddenly Hotch is no longer lying before Spencer but almost nose to nose with Spencer. "I want you, Spence," is whispered against Spencer's lips before Hotch dives in to press a kiss to Spencer's lips.
Please. I want you. I want it. I'm scared. Hotch's kiss conveys it all, the need, the fear and this heart-wrenching desperation because this is the bravest man Spencer ever knew and here and now he is going against his primal instinct to protect himself from getting hurt because his need to belong is greater than his fear because here and now he has control over what is happening, to him, around him.
Hotch pulls away from him. He is breathless, flushed and that fear is back in his eyes but it's slightly different now, it's open. Please don't do it out of pity.
Suddenly there is no room around them, no mattress under them but the great wide open space on the edge of the cliff and there are only two ways, one back, one forward and after so long, tough and painful journey there is only one way and he has to be brave, has to be sure for both of them.
So he dives in sliding his palms up Hotch's chest, his neck until his fingers are holding Hotch's jaw like world's most precious jewel and he pours into the kiss those nearly eight years of patient adoration, restrained desire and this new found need to protect the man before him with everything he has.
There are tears in Hotch's eyes and as gently as he can Spencer slides his thumbs until he can wipe them away before he moves his fingers, allowing them to ghost over Hotch's face into Hotch's hair as he gentles their kiss.
Hotch's hands slide up Spencer's arms until his left hand is resting against the back of Spencer's neck and his right hand curls on Spencer's shoulder and suddenly he pulls Spencer forward just as he leans back and they tumble back on the bed with Spencer on the top of Hotch.
Quickly Hotch moves his hips and legs until Spencer is nestled between them before they curl over Spencer's legs effectively trapping Spencer in Hotch's hold.
"Aaron," Spencer breaths against Hotch's lips. "We don't have to do anything tonight."
"Please," Hotch mumbles against Spencer's lips as he pulls Spencer even closer before he rocks his hips making their cocks slide against one another.
Hotch is semi-hard against Spencer and Spencer's own cock hardens against Hotch.
He wanted it for so long, so long, so fucking long that he is not going to last long, not that there will be any heavy action tonight. No, they are both too desperate and too emotionally unhinged for something more than kissing and rocking against each other, too close...
Spencer pulls away from Hotch's lips slightly when Hotch's breaths turn into gasps and he braces his weight on his right side as he slides down his left hand so he can cup Hotch's balls before he gently squeezes.
"Spence!" Hotch gasps breathlessly. "Please!" he keens.
Spencer dives into another sweet, short kiss before he cups Hotch's balls again pulling away from Hotch's mouth just as Hotch closes his eyes and throws his head back against the bed with breathless, "Spen..."
It's an exquisite sight, seeing Hotch this open, this vulnerable, breathlessly beautiful and for this very moment Spencer's, only Spencer's. It makes Spencer fall for the man even more as he breaths in and helps the man ride the wave down until Hotch opens his eyes again and looks Spencer in the eye.
There is no fear in Hotch's eyes now, only contentment and gratitude. Spencer drinks in that look before he dives down, moving his left arm to Hotch's side so he can brace himself and presses his lips against Hotch's again.
Hotch's legs curl even tighter over Spencer's and he rocks his hips as he speaks, "Come for me, Spence."
This is all it takes, those four words from Hotch's mouth make the orgasm crash through him like a tsunami wave before he keens, "Aaron!" and collapses, boneless, on the top of Hotch just Hotch's arms wrap around him even tighter.
Even though their desire had been assuaged Hotch's legs are still locked with Spencer's as he kisses the top of Spencer's head while Spencer curls around Hotch like a very possessive cat and he places his head on the top of Hotch's chest listening to Hotch's heartbeat just as Hotch's arms curl over Spencer's shoulders.
And even though he knows that they will regret falling asleep in sticky clothes in the morning he closes his eyes because he wants to stay in this moment a little while longer because his dream finally came true and he wants to bask in it for as long as possible.
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