Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Harry Potter (or I would be very rich and would have done different things with the characters) and neither do I own Criminal Minds.
Author's note: Why does this exist? It was supposed to be a one-shot, dammit! *sob* Well, after watching the most recent episode of Criminal Minds (in my country), I absolutely had to write this. It was actually hard to write, because of Spencer's psychological state, but I hope, I did alright and it isn't too illogical or rushed. You may have to watch the episode to understand what's happening… at least the scene concerning this. The other stuff, obviously, wouldn't happen in this AU. Btw, did anyone else notice the recurring theme of Firsts in this story? I only did now… *cough*.
Warning: Sexual content, spoilers for episode 8.12
Spencer stared at the key on the palm of his hand. Harry had given it to him two weeks ago, but he had never used it. He usually just rang the bell, because when Harry opened the door and let him in, he didn't have the feeling of being an intruder. Ringing this time would be counterproductive, though. Taking a deep breath Spencer put the key to work and opened the door.
Silence greeted him, but he had anticipated that.
Six steps led him to the living room, another seven to the big, comfortable arm chair. He had sat on it countless times - well, seventy-five times actually -, but seeing it now induced a nervous shiver in the brunet. He slowly sat down and took another deep, shaky breath. Only one more thing to do, there was barely any chance of turning back now.
One hesitant hand moved to his leather satchel and took out the item that would be the most important of the evening. Spencer stared at the blindfold like he had done with the key, while twisting it methodically through his fingers. He couldn't quite believe what he was about to do. He swallowed thickly, but tied the black cloth around his eyes nonetheless. Moments later he heard determined footsteps coming closer and suddenly he was twelve all over again, standing in front of his crush and getting laughed at by his so called classmates. 'Tormentors' was probably the more suitable term.
His fingers gripped the armrests hard enough to turn his knuckles white and there was probably no muscle in his body that wasn't tense. The first, soft kiss to his temple made him flinch, but there was no laughter, just several more kisses to his face and gentle hands in his hair.
His fingers didn't relax and neither did the rest of his body.
One knee sank into the upholstery next to his right thigh, then the other knee next to his left one, before a moderate weight settled on his lap. Spencer was proud that he didn't flinch this time. The hot mouth was slowly sucking at his neck now, making his breath hitch. His mind was still prepared to get humiliated, but his body was starting to like what was being done to it. He self-consciously shifted, when part of his anatomy started to like being touched a bit too much.
"Shhh, it's alright. I'm the same, see?"
Harry moved a bit forward until his pelvis was pressed against Spencer's, thereby giving the brunet a chance to feel the truth of the other man's words. He felt his cheeks heat up – they had kissed and touched each other a bit, though never done anything too sexual -, but a lot of the unwelcomed negative tension left his body. The painful memories weren't forgotten, but just now, they didn't matter as much. A finger hooked into the knot of his tie and loosened it, before deft fingers started to unbutton his shirt. Both articles of clothing landed on the floor with a slight rustling soon after.
Spencer's own cautious fingers finally dared to abandon the upholstery to do some exploring of their own. They stopped short at the feel of bare skin, however. This time there was some laughter, but it was breathy and lacked any malicious intent. Instead of making the brunet defensive, it made him more daring. Curious fingertips explored the new territory, tracing any scars and dips they found on their way. He may be taller than Harry, but the other man was certainly the more muscular one of them.
Harry's fingers weren't idle either, nor, Spencer realized slightly shocked, were their eager hips, which had started moving without his consent or notice. The brunet's embarrassment came back with a vengeance, when the first, obvious moan left his mouth. He tried to stifle the following ones, but apparently Harry wouldn't have it. The raven-haired man nipped at his compressed lips, but then relented somewhat by engaging Spencer in a kiss, which successfully muffled their further moaning.
His climax came pathetically quick, but there was pretty much nothing he could do about it, so the brunet clutched Harry against his body and yielded.
Still panting, but probably more relaxed than he had ever been in his life, Spencer leant back. His arms were still wrapped around the other man, but had loosened their desperate hold.
"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" The brunet heard Harry snort softly and felt him shifting. "You did not just ask me that. I think your genius may be shot to hell for the moment." No genius was needed to hear the slightly smug tone in his voice. "Equal footing… to give me a bit of control over the situation?" Spencer guessed sluggishly and received an affirmative sound in response, while the raven-haired man unknotted the blindfold.
The first thing the brunet saw was Harry's concerned face.
"Are you alright?" Spencer nodded slightly and even dared to press a kiss to the other man's collar bone. Perhaps his mind was really taking a break. He wasn't even feeling embarrassed anymore... His pants felt gross, however.
"Thank you for doing this for me, Harry." Said man smiled wryly and raised his hands to run his fingers through Spencer's hair.
"It wasn't exactly a chore, you know?"
The brunet was glad he had trusted Harry enough to disclose some of his painful childhood memories. Now he only had another couple hundred issues to work through.
"Sorry for being late."
Spencer had spent the night at Harry's and they had gotten a bit… side-tracked this morning. The brunet sat down, put his satchel next to his chair and turned his attentive gaze towards the rest of his team and the screen. Said screen showed some gruesomely disfigured corpses, but what really got to him were his aforementioned colleagues. All of them were staring at him with varying – but equally disconcerting – facial expressions.
"What? I'm not that late, am I?"
"Hey, Pretty Boy, looks like you had an interesting evening. Or night?" Leering teasingly, Morgan, who was sitting next to him, touched a spot on his neck. "This is one hell of a hickey you have here." Horrified, the brunet slapped a hand over the love bite, decidedly not looking at the amused faces. He hadn't noticed it due to his lack of time, but he clearly remembered Harry having sucked right there. A couple of times even.
Fortunately they took pity on him and quickly continued the case presentation. He was still embarrassed, though. Just after the debriefing came to an end, Morgan laid a hand on his shoulder, making Spencer tense up again. "But seriously, I'm happy for you." The rest of the team nodded and smiled at him – even Hotch, to his everlasting shock! Morgan patted his shoulder twice more, before leaving the room to start investigating.
Well, knowing them, it could have been worse.