More AU!CM-fic(lets)
So with the craziness around CBS´ stupidest decision ever Ali over at I Knew You´d Understand-blog threw some prompts at me because she wanted some H/R-loving. Anyway, she isn´t getting what she wants. Sorry, Ali!!! I still love you to pieces. I managed to fill out 2 out of the 3 prompts but added two more, so hopefully she´ll like those.
X-posted at criminalxminds and cm_hotch_reid
Verse: Master!Hotch/Convict!Reid
Beta: Unbeta
Raitings: Each chapter is raited
Mystery Man
FRC
The team knew about the Convict that their Unit Chief had been... literally... forced to get and they all knew the reasons Hotch hadn´t had one before was because he despised the laws, although he never spoke openly about it. But no one had ever seen the Convict, except Gideon, and there was much speculations going on about the secret person. Hotch was more silenced than a rock and hadn´t said anything concerning the Convict, Gideon had let it slip that it was a man and he was very intelligent.
The first indication of the unseen man actually coming to work with their boss, was a sturdy desk and an office chair that was delivered to the Unit Chief´s office. They all watched from the bullpen when the dark haired man ordered the movers where to put it until he was satisfied and thanked them with a short nod. Hotch kept busy in his office that day, they could see him move boxes and furniture around the room. Garcia was granted access with a box full of office supplies and Gideon made a quick stop exiting with happy grin on his face. They could all feel the anticipation fill the air, finally they would meet the mystery man.
The next day they all clocked in earlier than usual, and of course their boss ran late. Each time they heard the elevator-bell ring in a new cargo they would keep an eye on the glass door. And they weren´t disappointed.
Hotch arrived a few minutes before eight, striding across the bullpen, followed by a tall, thin man in brown khakis, white shirt, black tie and a knitted red sweater vest. His brownish short hair lay flat along his scull but he hadn´t managed all of it as it stuck out in a few places in on the back of his head. Over the shirt-collar lay an inch wide black collar, indicating the man´s status. The Convict followed his Master in the set place, three steps behind the left foot, and never looked up from the floor.
As soon as Hotch had set his briefcase in his office, he came out to the walkway and beckoned his team to the review room.
They were standing by the screen, both facing the door when the team trailed in, none of them took a seat but scattered around the room looking at the two men. Hotch waited until Garcia and JJ had entered and closed the door behind them.
"Everyone, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. He is the newest member of the team." Hotch turned his attention to the man they were all taking in. "Reid, these are Special Agents Prentiss and Morgan. You know Gideon, and these are Jennifer Jareau, our Media Liaison and Penelope Garcia, our Technical Analyst."
"Garcia will work fine, sunshine, welcome to the BAU," Garcia said brightly as she stepped forward and held out her hand.
Reid was startled. They all noticed the way he leaned away from the held out hand and sent Hotch a frightened look. Hotch didn´t give any indication of what his Convict should do but waited until Reid reacted.
After a long minute of squirming under the teams stare, Reid slowly raised his hand and met Garcia´s midway. The shake was short, but Garcia sent him a wide warm smile.
Hotch nodded. "Any questions?"
"How old are you?" JJ asked quietly as she had always imagined Hotch going for someone closer to his age.
Reid glanced at Hotch but stayed quiet until Hotch looked at him: "Reid?" he said in a low authoritative tone.
"I´m twenty five," Reid told the floor and they all saw he was ready to disappear through a hole.
Morgan gave Gideon a short glance before playfully asking: "So how smart are you?" He earned a disapproving glance from Hotch. "What! We all want to know why you bring a kid into the BAU." He defended himself.
Hotch looked back at Reid.
"I have an IQ of hundred eighty seven, eidetic memory and can read up to twenty thousand words a minute. I have a doctorate in Mathematics and Chemistry and an undergrad in Psychology and Engineering," Reid said quietly.
"He´s also shy of doctorate in Engineering and an undergrad in Sociology," Hotch continued when he realized that Reid was not going to mention his other achievements. "Anything else?"
They were shocked at the speech and their minds filled with questions no one was able to ask.
"Alright then," Hotch said to the group, "Garcia would you mind giving Reid a quick tour around the floor?"
"None at all, sir," She said replied and gave Reid another one of her smiles.
"Please, show him the library too and tell Mrs. Altman that Reid can check out anything he wants in my name."
"Yes, sir, will do," she turned to the young man, "Come on, muffin, I´ll show you the grounds."
Reid gave Hotch a quick glance and trailed behind her as his Master had nodded his approval. After they´d left the rest gathered around the table, except for Gideon.
"Seems to me he belongs in the White Collar Unit more than the BAU," Morgan said.
"I think," Gideon said as he came to the table and leaned against chairs, deep in thought, "he´s perfect for the BAU."
"Did you see that kid?" Morgan argued, "I doubt he can fight off a six year old."
"He won´t be going out in the field," Hotch said firmly, "and we´ll cross that bridge when, and if, it comes to that."
"After the short time I´ve spent with him," Gideon waved his glasses through the air as he paused and straightened, "I truly believe he´ll be an extreme asset to this team."
Morgan watched him with disbelief but had too much respect for Gideon to voice it.
"I don´t have to remind you," Hotch started firmly and gave the room his famous Glare-of-Death, "that even though Reid is a Convict, he is to be treated with the same respect as other agents."
Everyone quietly agreed and Hotch ended the meeting. Back in his office, Hotch sat down at his table and looked at the other desk in the room that stood opposite the door. The meeting had gone as well as expected, Morgan had voiced his concerns but that had been predictable considering he was meeting Reid for the first time. He, once again, wondered if he was submitting Spencer to a world he might not be willing to enter and made a mental note to ask him when they came home. Opening a file, he buried himself in work until Garcia returned with Reid.
**
Intimate
Follows immediately after All I need
FRM
Spencer laid perfectly still, soaking in the heat that surrounded him and savoring the security the other body submitted. Too soon he felt his Master stir, with a soft sigh, the hand around his waist pulled him closer and he could feel the hard need press against his behind. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath and for the first time he wanted to give (t)his Master what he needed.
A soft good morning was murmured into his hair before lips were pressed against the back of his neck, right were his collar should be resting around his neck. Spencer couldn´t hold back the lazy smile that graced his face at the gentle touch.
Hands pulled and rolled him until he was facing his Master, who seemed quite content to keep his eyes closed. Fingers threaded through his hair until they rested against the mere spot lips had occupied moments before.
The touch was delicate, his Master´s lips mapping out, first his lower lip and then his upper before meeting them in a casual manner. Tongue darted out, testing it´s ground and the Convict eagerly parted his lips for a hesitant invite.
All too slowly Hotch tugged him closer, for more contact, for better access. A soft growl filled the silence at the first brush of their tongues before they started tasting, feeling and learning. Spencer didn´t dare to let his hands touch, he forced them to lay unmoving between them and curled his fingers into his palms when the longing to caress became almost unbearable.
But he took everything the older man gave and laid himself open for the other. A knee found its way between Spencer´s legs, weaving their feet together into a tangle of legs. Fingers gently stroke the nape of the neck, played with the brown strings before pulling forward and caressing along the long jaw.
Too soon, the older man gently pulled back. A hand rested against Spencer´s neck and he knew his Master could feel the rapid beating of his pulse. Slowly he opened his eyes and met dark brown ones before averting his gaze to the FBI motive of his Master´s T. He couldn´t help but lick his lips before drawing in his lower one, maybe in attempt to memorize the taste, maybe because he missed the contact.
Spencer felt Hotch watching him, his Master´s finger´s still lightly stroking along his neck and shoulder. Hotch sighed and pressed a quick kiss on Spencer´s forehead.
"I should shower," the older man said as he untangled himself and rolled out of bed.
Spence closed his eyes. Loneliness washed over him and he pulled his knees to his chest as the cold air mocked him. Why should (t)his Master want him?
**
Realization
Follow immediately after Intimate
FRM
At the sound of the shower running, he forced himself out of bed and made his way toward the kitchen for very-much-needed first cup of coffee. He felt exhausted, the lack of sleep and the rejection lay heavily on his shoulders. When it came down to it he could understand why Hotch had backed out. He wasn´t really anything desirable. His figure nothing more than skin and bones and gawky limps and he were socially awkward. All he had was his mind.
Spencer pulled a dark red sweater vest over his head as he walked into the living room after a quick shower and clothes. He noticed Hotch was still shuffling through paper and knew he had time for another quick cup before they had to leave for work. He leaned against the counter, his fingers wrapped around the mug for warmth and went over the event this morning once more in his mind, just to be sure he didn´t miss anything.
His Master came into the kitchen but instead of asking him if he was ready, Hotch walked right in, his eyes locking on the younger man. Spencer noticed the determination in his manner and inwardly cringed when he set his gaze on Hotch´s black shoes.
"Spencer, I´m sorry. What happened this morning shouldn´t have happened and it won´t happen again, I give you my word." Hotch said firmly.
He didn´t want to dissect the turndown with his Master. "It´s alright, Sir, I understand." Spencer whispered to the floor, his finger´s clutching the mug in his hands.
There was an awkward silence between them. "No, I don´t think you do. I didn´t leave the bed because I didn´t..."
"You don´t have to explain, Sir, I´m just a Convict." Spencer interrupted him and closed his eyes as he realized he had broken a rule. When he opened them again he noticed his Master´s body was intense with rage and his body stiffened in fear.
"No," his Master said in an intence, low growl, "You are a human being, with wants, needs and desires and until you can express those freely, I can not... I will not sleep with you."
Frozen in place over his Master´s outburst, Spencer fumbled to interpret the words. Hotch closed the gap between them, setting his hands on the counter on either side of the young Convict. He was now trapped between the counter and the older man, the only touch was Hotch´s tie brushing against the fingers squeezing the mug. Anger still radiated from Master´s body and Spencer tried to make himself as small as the space allowed.
"The reason I walked away this morning is not lack of interest or want," Hotch said in a rushed whisper to Spencer´s shoulder. "If we´d had sex this morning, I wouldn´t have been any better than the monsters we hunt.”
Spencer desperately tried to make sense of what Hotch was saying. There was no way that Hotch could be anything like the Unsubs they chased.
Arms wrapped around the thin body, all anger gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Spence, you didn´t even touch me," his Master whispered.
Spencer closed his eyes as he tried to make sense of the all of this. Because you didn´t ask me to was right on the tip of his tongue when he realized that that was exactly what his Master was talking about.
All of a sudden everything Hotch had said to him made sense, everything from telling him to stand up from the kneeling postition, to sit at the table, to eat the food, to sleep in the bed. Even the light collar he wore made sense. Hotch saw him as a person first, his behavior from the very beginning supported that theory.
Spencer laid his head on the shoulder taking in the warm touch and the comfort the embrase offered. How could he possibly trust this?
"One step at the time," he heard Hotch whisper, before lips were pressed against his temple and then the heat disappeared. When he opened his eyes again, Hotch was gone, he could hear him clicking his briefcase shut in the living room and knew it was time to go to work. Now if he could only figure out if those words were for him or Hotch.
**
Contact
FRM
If Spencer had been told to name what he hated about his life with this Master he would say the nightmares. They didn´t come every night, like they had done when he´d first been brought here and he´d dreamt about the farm and The Clover´s. Now, his nightmares were filled with darkness, blood, gunshots, and chases, victims and Unsubs, they were almost worse because he never knew how they would end.
Waking up in cold sweat was nothing new to Spencer so this night he did what he did every time he woke up in cold sweat. He sat on the edge of the bed, letting his feet touch the soft carpet and reassure him, he was in his bedroom at home. Then he walked quietly to the kitchen where he got a glass of milk and a few biscuits before returning down the hallway to his bedroom.
Except this night he stopped in front of Aaron´s door. It was ajar, but all he could see in the grayish light from the moon was the corner of the bed. This night, Spencer gave the door a push so it opened fully and revealed the sleeping form on the King size bed.
A few steps into the room, he stopped at the end of the bed and watching the man sleep comfortable on his side. Spencer remembered the first time he´d had a nightmare about a case, the comfort that Hotch had given him and now he could almost smile at the Big Blow Up that followed the morning after.
That had been almost three years ago, but he still remembered how safe he´d felt with the body pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his waist and how desperately he´d wanted to give himself to his Master that morning. All this time, the dark haired man had never crossed the line again, yes, wake him up from screaming nightmares, a hand on his shoulders with a small squeeze for support and every now and then, arms around his body for comfort, but never a kiss or a brush of a hand to indicate his wants or needs.
But Spencer knew Aaron wanted him. Sometimes he´d caught his Master starring at him while he read or finished up a report, a smile that brightened up his eyes when Hotch got joke others didn´t, the way he made sure to fill at least one cupboard with food that had "insane amount of sugar" in them. Spencer´s favorite were the quiet evenings, after work, when Hotch nursed a scotch and they would sit in the living room, talking about life, death and everything in between. Spencer knew, the little information he´d let slip during those nights, that Hotch had a rough picture of his life with previous Masters and childhood, as Spencer had a rough picture of Hotch´s life with his wife and child and life in the Bureau. Hotch kept a tight lid on his upbringing and Spencer suspected it had been rough and respected the man enough not to push.
Slowly, Spencer walked to the side of the bed, the moonlight giving Hotch a grayish color. If it hadn´t been for the rising and falling of his chest, Spence would have shaken him to make sure he was alive. Instead he sat on the bed, careful not to disrupt the man from his sleep, and raised his hand. He ran a fingertip from the pointed shoulder, down the upper arm to the elbow. The strong muscles flexing under his touch making his stomach clench in excitement. The tip continued down the forearm ruffling up the dark hairs.
Suddenly a hand wrapped around his wrist and his breath caught. He looked at his Master´s face but his eyes were still closed and had a firm grip on his wrist.
"What are you doing?" Hotch asked in a low voice, hoarse from sleep.
He had no answer.
Without letting go of his hand, the older man sat up on the bed and looked Spencer straight in the eyes. Spencer tensed as silence wrapped around them, but he knew he didn´t fear this man and his body relaxed.
"Spence?" Hotch asked in almost stiff tone as he felt more then saw the tension leave the other body.
Spencer gave a small unsure smile before bringing up his other hand to cup Hotch´s jaw as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Hotch´s. Sensing how the other man went still, Spence dared to press a bit harder, his hand sliding to the back of the neck to pull Hotch closer. He planted a few chaste kisses along the lips before letting his tongue slide along the lower lib of the other man. The small growl that escaped from Hotch along with the hands that found their way to his back and his hair encouraged him further.
Tongue met tongue and the kiss quickly deepened as hands familiarized themselves with shoulders, necks and jaws and threaded fingers through locks. It was the older man who drew back and stared at the other man, his hand still cupping the jaw of the younger and his thumb caressing the cheek and now wet lips.
"Did you have a nightmare?" Hotch asked softly.
Spencer raised his eyebrows in surprise to the odd question. "How did you know?"
A lazy smile and a brief kiss on the corner of Spencer´s mouth was given before Hotch replied; "You taste like milk and cookies."
Spencer gave a small huff and looked away in embarrassment. His Master let him go and moved to the center of the bed. "Come here," he said quietly and raised the covers, the invitation very clear.
He didn´t wait one second before joining the other man and settling his back against the warm body. Spencer closed his eyes and let out a content sigh when an arm wrapped around his middle and pulled him closer. A kiss was planted on the back of his neck and Spencer threaded his fingers through Aaron´s hand and gave a small squeeze. Here he was safe.
"Good night, Spencer," Hotch whispered into Spencer´s curls.
"Good night, Aaron," Spencer whispered back, halfway into a sleep.
He didn´t feel the way Hotch pressed closer, didn´t hear how Hotch´s breath caught and didn´t see how Hotch closed his eyes, all at the sound of his name.
**
X-posted at criminalxminds and cm_hotch_reid
Verse: Master!Hotch/Convict!Reid
Beta: Unbeta
Raitings: Each chapter is raited
Mystery Man
FRC
The team knew about the Convict that their Unit Chief had been... literally... forced to get and they all knew the reasons Hotch hadn´t had one before was because he despised the laws, although he never spoke openly about it. But no one had ever seen the Convict, except Gideon, and there was much speculations going on about the secret person. Hotch was more silenced than a rock and hadn´t said anything concerning the Convict, Gideon had let it slip that it was a man and he was very intelligent.
The first indication of the unseen man actually coming to work with their boss, was a sturdy desk and an office chair that was delivered to the Unit Chief´s office. They all watched from the bullpen when the dark haired man ordered the movers where to put it until he was satisfied and thanked them with a short nod. Hotch kept busy in his office that day, they could see him move boxes and furniture around the room. Garcia was granted access with a box full of office supplies and Gideon made a quick stop exiting with happy grin on his face. They could all feel the anticipation fill the air, finally they would meet the mystery man.
The next day they all clocked in earlier than usual, and of course their boss ran late. Each time they heard the elevator-bell ring in a new cargo they would keep an eye on the glass door. And they weren´t disappointed.
Hotch arrived a few minutes before eight, striding across the bullpen, followed by a tall, thin man in brown khakis, white shirt, black tie and a knitted red sweater vest. His brownish short hair lay flat along his scull but he hadn´t managed all of it as it stuck out in a few places in on the back of his head. Over the shirt-collar lay an inch wide black collar, indicating the man´s status. The Convict followed his Master in the set place, three steps behind the left foot, and never looked up from the floor.
As soon as Hotch had set his briefcase in his office, he came out to the walkway and beckoned his team to the review room.
They were standing by the screen, both facing the door when the team trailed in, none of them took a seat but scattered around the room looking at the two men. Hotch waited until Garcia and JJ had entered and closed the door behind them.
"Everyone, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. He is the newest member of the team." Hotch turned his attention to the man they were all taking in. "Reid, these are Special Agents Prentiss and Morgan. You know Gideon, and these are Jennifer Jareau, our Media Liaison and Penelope Garcia, our Technical Analyst."
"Garcia will work fine, sunshine, welcome to the BAU," Garcia said brightly as she stepped forward and held out her hand.
Reid was startled. They all noticed the way he leaned away from the held out hand and sent Hotch a frightened look. Hotch didn´t give any indication of what his Convict should do but waited until Reid reacted.
After a long minute of squirming under the teams stare, Reid slowly raised his hand and met Garcia´s midway. The shake was short, but Garcia sent him a wide warm smile.
Hotch nodded. "Any questions?"
"How old are you?" JJ asked quietly as she had always imagined Hotch going for someone closer to his age.
Reid glanced at Hotch but stayed quiet until Hotch looked at him: "Reid?" he said in a low authoritative tone.
"I´m twenty five," Reid told the floor and they all saw he was ready to disappear through a hole.
Morgan gave Gideon a short glance before playfully asking: "So how smart are you?" He earned a disapproving glance from Hotch. "What! We all want to know why you bring a kid into the BAU." He defended himself.
Hotch looked back at Reid.
"I have an IQ of hundred eighty seven, eidetic memory and can read up to twenty thousand words a minute. I have a doctorate in Mathematics and Chemistry and an undergrad in Psychology and Engineering," Reid said quietly.
"He´s also shy of doctorate in Engineering and an undergrad in Sociology," Hotch continued when he realized that Reid was not going to mention his other achievements. "Anything else?"
They were shocked at the speech and their minds filled with questions no one was able to ask.
"Alright then," Hotch said to the group, "Garcia would you mind giving Reid a quick tour around the floor?"
"None at all, sir," She said replied and gave Reid another one of her smiles.
"Please, show him the library too and tell Mrs. Altman that Reid can check out anything he wants in my name."
"Yes, sir, will do," she turned to the young man, "Come on, muffin, I´ll show you the grounds."
Reid gave Hotch a quick glance and trailed behind her as his Master had nodded his approval. After they´d left the rest gathered around the table, except for Gideon.
"Seems to me he belongs in the White Collar Unit more than the BAU," Morgan said.
"I think," Gideon said as he came to the table and leaned against chairs, deep in thought, "he´s perfect for the BAU."
"Did you see that kid?" Morgan argued, "I doubt he can fight off a six year old."
"He won´t be going out in the field," Hotch said firmly, "and we´ll cross that bridge when, and if, it comes to that."
"After the short time I´ve spent with him," Gideon waved his glasses through the air as he paused and straightened, "I truly believe he´ll be an extreme asset to this team."
Morgan watched him with disbelief but had too much respect for Gideon to voice it.
"I don´t have to remind you," Hotch started firmly and gave the room his famous Glare-of-Death, "that even though Reid is a Convict, he is to be treated with the same respect as other agents."
Everyone quietly agreed and Hotch ended the meeting. Back in his office, Hotch sat down at his table and looked at the other desk in the room that stood opposite the door. The meeting had gone as well as expected, Morgan had voiced his concerns but that had been predictable considering he was meeting Reid for the first time. He, once again, wondered if he was submitting Spencer to a world he might not be willing to enter and made a mental note to ask him when they came home. Opening a file, he buried himself in work until Garcia returned with Reid.
**
Intimate
Follows immediately after All I need
FRM
Spencer laid perfectly still, soaking in the heat that surrounded him and savoring the security the other body submitted. Too soon he felt his Master stir, with a soft sigh, the hand around his waist pulled him closer and he could feel the hard need press against his behind. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath and for the first time he wanted to give (t)his Master what he needed.
A soft good morning was murmured into his hair before lips were pressed against the back of his neck, right were his collar should be resting around his neck. Spencer couldn´t hold back the lazy smile that graced his face at the gentle touch.
Hands pulled and rolled him until he was facing his Master, who seemed quite content to keep his eyes closed. Fingers threaded through his hair until they rested against the mere spot lips had occupied moments before.
The touch was delicate, his Master´s lips mapping out, first his lower lip and then his upper before meeting them in a casual manner. Tongue darted out, testing it´s ground and the Convict eagerly parted his lips for a hesitant invite.
All too slowly Hotch tugged him closer, for more contact, for better access. A soft growl filled the silence at the first brush of their tongues before they started tasting, feeling and learning. Spencer didn´t dare to let his hands touch, he forced them to lay unmoving between them and curled his fingers into his palms when the longing to caress became almost unbearable.
But he took everything the older man gave and laid himself open for the other. A knee found its way between Spencer´s legs, weaving their feet together into a tangle of legs. Fingers gently stroke the nape of the neck, played with the brown strings before pulling forward and caressing along the long jaw.
Too soon, the older man gently pulled back. A hand rested against Spencer´s neck and he knew his Master could feel the rapid beating of his pulse. Slowly he opened his eyes and met dark brown ones before averting his gaze to the FBI motive of his Master´s T. He couldn´t help but lick his lips before drawing in his lower one, maybe in attempt to memorize the taste, maybe because he missed the contact.
Spencer felt Hotch watching him, his Master´s finger´s still lightly stroking along his neck and shoulder. Hotch sighed and pressed a quick kiss on Spencer´s forehead.
"I should shower," the older man said as he untangled himself and rolled out of bed.
Spence closed his eyes. Loneliness washed over him and he pulled his knees to his chest as the cold air mocked him. Why should (t)his Master want him?
**
Realization
Follow immediately after Intimate
FRM
At the sound of the shower running, he forced himself out of bed and made his way toward the kitchen for very-much-needed first cup of coffee. He felt exhausted, the lack of sleep and the rejection lay heavily on his shoulders. When it came down to it he could understand why Hotch had backed out. He wasn´t really anything desirable. His figure nothing more than skin and bones and gawky limps and he were socially awkward. All he had was his mind.
Spencer pulled a dark red sweater vest over his head as he walked into the living room after a quick shower and clothes. He noticed Hotch was still shuffling through paper and knew he had time for another quick cup before they had to leave for work. He leaned against the counter, his fingers wrapped around the mug for warmth and went over the event this morning once more in his mind, just to be sure he didn´t miss anything.
His Master came into the kitchen but instead of asking him if he was ready, Hotch walked right in, his eyes locking on the younger man. Spencer noticed the determination in his manner and inwardly cringed when he set his gaze on Hotch´s black shoes.
"Spencer, I´m sorry. What happened this morning shouldn´t have happened and it won´t happen again, I give you my word." Hotch said firmly.
He didn´t want to dissect the turndown with his Master. "It´s alright, Sir, I understand." Spencer whispered to the floor, his finger´s clutching the mug in his hands.
There was an awkward silence between them. "No, I don´t think you do. I didn´t leave the bed because I didn´t..."
"You don´t have to explain, Sir, I´m just a Convict." Spencer interrupted him and closed his eyes as he realized he had broken a rule. When he opened them again he noticed his Master´s body was intense with rage and his body stiffened in fear.
"No," his Master said in an intence, low growl, "You are a human being, with wants, needs and desires and until you can express those freely, I can not... I will not sleep with you."
Frozen in place over his Master´s outburst, Spencer fumbled to interpret the words. Hotch closed the gap between them, setting his hands on the counter on either side of the young Convict. He was now trapped between the counter and the older man, the only touch was Hotch´s tie brushing against the fingers squeezing the mug. Anger still radiated from Master´s body and Spencer tried to make himself as small as the space allowed.
"The reason I walked away this morning is not lack of interest or want," Hotch said in a rushed whisper to Spencer´s shoulder. "If we´d had sex this morning, I wouldn´t have been any better than the monsters we hunt.”
Spencer desperately tried to make sense of what Hotch was saying. There was no way that Hotch could be anything like the Unsubs they chased.
Arms wrapped around the thin body, all anger gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Spence, you didn´t even touch me," his Master whispered.
Spencer closed his eyes as he tried to make sense of the all of this. Because you didn´t ask me to was right on the tip of his tongue when he realized that that was exactly what his Master was talking about.
All of a sudden everything Hotch had said to him made sense, everything from telling him to stand up from the kneeling postition, to sit at the table, to eat the food, to sleep in the bed. Even the light collar he wore made sense. Hotch saw him as a person first, his behavior from the very beginning supported that theory.
Spencer laid his head on the shoulder taking in the warm touch and the comfort the embrase offered. How could he possibly trust this?
"One step at the time," he heard Hotch whisper, before lips were pressed against his temple and then the heat disappeared. When he opened his eyes again, Hotch was gone, he could hear him clicking his briefcase shut in the living room and knew it was time to go to work. Now if he could only figure out if those words were for him or Hotch.
**
Contact
FRM
If Spencer had been told to name what he hated about his life with this Master he would say the nightmares. They didn´t come every night, like they had done when he´d first been brought here and he´d dreamt about the farm and The Clover´s. Now, his nightmares were filled with darkness, blood, gunshots, and chases, victims and Unsubs, they were almost worse because he never knew how they would end.
Waking up in cold sweat was nothing new to Spencer so this night he did what he did every time he woke up in cold sweat. He sat on the edge of the bed, letting his feet touch the soft carpet and reassure him, he was in his bedroom at home. Then he walked quietly to the kitchen where he got a glass of milk and a few biscuits before returning down the hallway to his bedroom.
Except this night he stopped in front of Aaron´s door. It was ajar, but all he could see in the grayish light from the moon was the corner of the bed. This night, Spencer gave the door a push so it opened fully and revealed the sleeping form on the King size bed.
A few steps into the room, he stopped at the end of the bed and watching the man sleep comfortable on his side. Spencer remembered the first time he´d had a nightmare about a case, the comfort that Hotch had given him and now he could almost smile at the Big Blow Up that followed the morning after.
That had been almost three years ago, but he still remembered how safe he´d felt with the body pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his waist and how desperately he´d wanted to give himself to his Master that morning. All this time, the dark haired man had never crossed the line again, yes, wake him up from screaming nightmares, a hand on his shoulders with a small squeeze for support and every now and then, arms around his body for comfort, but never a kiss or a brush of a hand to indicate his wants or needs.
But Spencer knew Aaron wanted him. Sometimes he´d caught his Master starring at him while he read or finished up a report, a smile that brightened up his eyes when Hotch got joke others didn´t, the way he made sure to fill at least one cupboard with food that had "insane amount of sugar" in them. Spencer´s favorite were the quiet evenings, after work, when Hotch nursed a scotch and they would sit in the living room, talking about life, death and everything in between. Spencer knew, the little information he´d let slip during those nights, that Hotch had a rough picture of his life with previous Masters and childhood, as Spencer had a rough picture of Hotch´s life with his wife and child and life in the Bureau. Hotch kept a tight lid on his upbringing and Spencer suspected it had been rough and respected the man enough not to push.
Slowly, Spencer walked to the side of the bed, the moonlight giving Hotch a grayish color. If it hadn´t been for the rising and falling of his chest, Spence would have shaken him to make sure he was alive. Instead he sat on the bed, careful not to disrupt the man from his sleep, and raised his hand. He ran a fingertip from the pointed shoulder, down the upper arm to the elbow. The strong muscles flexing under his touch making his stomach clench in excitement. The tip continued down the forearm ruffling up the dark hairs.
Suddenly a hand wrapped around his wrist and his breath caught. He looked at his Master´s face but his eyes were still closed and had a firm grip on his wrist.
"What are you doing?" Hotch asked in a low voice, hoarse from sleep.
He had no answer.
Without letting go of his hand, the older man sat up on the bed and looked Spencer straight in the eyes. Spencer tensed as silence wrapped around them, but he knew he didn´t fear this man and his body relaxed.
"Spence?" Hotch asked in almost stiff tone as he felt more then saw the tension leave the other body.
Spencer gave a small unsure smile before bringing up his other hand to cup Hotch´s jaw as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Hotch´s. Sensing how the other man went still, Spence dared to press a bit harder, his hand sliding to the back of the neck to pull Hotch closer. He planted a few chaste kisses along the lips before letting his tongue slide along the lower lib of the other man. The small growl that escaped from Hotch along with the hands that found their way to his back and his hair encouraged him further.
Tongue met tongue and the kiss quickly deepened as hands familiarized themselves with shoulders, necks and jaws and threaded fingers through locks. It was the older man who drew back and stared at the other man, his hand still cupping the jaw of the younger and his thumb caressing the cheek and now wet lips.
"Did you have a nightmare?" Hotch asked softly.
Spencer raised his eyebrows in surprise to the odd question. "How did you know?"
A lazy smile and a brief kiss on the corner of Spencer´s mouth was given before Hotch replied; "You taste like milk and cookies."
Spencer gave a small huff and looked away in embarrassment. His Master let him go and moved to the center of the bed. "Come here," he said quietly and raised the covers, the invitation very clear.
He didn´t wait one second before joining the other man and settling his back against the warm body. Spencer closed his eyes and let out a content sigh when an arm wrapped around his middle and pulled him closer. A kiss was planted on the back of his neck and Spencer threaded his fingers through Aaron´s hand and gave a small squeeze. Here he was safe.
"Good night, Spencer," Hotch whispered into Spencer´s curls.
"Good night, Aaron," Spencer whispered back, halfway into a sleep.
He didn´t feel the way Hotch pressed closer, didn´t hear how Hotch´s breath caught and didn´t see how Hotch closed his eyes, all at the sound of his name.
**