CM Fic: Too Close (Hotch/Reid)
Title: Too Close
Author: LTxYx
Rating: FRAO/NC-17/Slash
Pairing: Hotch/Reid
Wordcount: ~ 3100
Summary: He'd almost died tonight. And they both knew it could always happen again. Anytime, anywhere. (Set after season 4 finale. Spoilers for that episode)
Too Close
His lungs burned as if they were on fire. His heart was racing, pounding heavily, almost painfully in his chest.
Thump, thump, thump…
When Spencer Reid arrived at Hotch’s house, he thought he was close to a collapse. He’d been shopping in the area when he’d gotten the call. Morgan had phoned him and told him about their boss’ unexpected, and most unwanted, visitor. The reaper. George Foyet had made his terrible comeback.
He tried to kill Hotch.
That’s what Morgan had said on the phone. Followed by the quick addition:
But he’s alright. He’s alright. He shot Foyet.
For a moment, Reid had to support himself on the metal handrail before Hotch’s house. Two police cars and an ambulance were parked in front of the building. Since there was no one to be seen in the vehicles, the young agent figured that the policemen and the medics were still in the house.
The door suddenly flung open, giving Reid a considerable scare.
Thump, thump, thump…
He pressed his palm against his chest as if he could calm his heartbeat down that way. He looked up and saw two men exiting Hotch’s house, carrying a stretcher. On the stretcher, no doubt, lay the corpse of the reaper. It was covered with a thin, white blanket which was already soaked with blood in the middle.
Reid took a step back to let the men through, and then forced himself to go inside. As he walked through the door, his heart was still beating so loud that every other sound seemed to be muffled by it. He felt the blood rush through his veins in brusque intervals that matched the throbbing in his chest.
“Hey,” Morgan called as soon as he spotted his colleague entering the hallway.
Reid spun around. “What happened?” he asked and instantly wondered if Morgan had heard the question. His own voice sounded so very distant to him, as if someone had talked to him through a wall. His heartbeat was echoing in his ears. Why he was still so extremely agitated, he didn’t know. Hotch was alive, after all.
Thump, thump, thump…
“The guy was waiting here for Hotch. Lurking in the shadows,” Morgan said with a grim expression on his face. He remembered his encounter with the reaper and it wasn’t a pleasant memory at all.
Reid licked his lips. He could taste the salt of his sweat that had run down his face. He hastily wiped his forehead with his sleeve, and then glanced around. “Where is he?”
Morgan cocked his head, motioning towards the living room. “The cops are questioning him.”
The young man nodded numbly, before turning around. He had to see him. He needed to see him in the flesh. On the threshold, he stopped short.
There he was. Unit chief Aaron Hotchner as the world knew him. Black suit, neat tie, not a single lock of black hair was out of place. With his arms folded, he leaned against the wall, facing two police officers.
Thump, thump, thump…
Hotch shifted his gaze and saw his youngest team member stand in the door frame. The genius boy as the world knew him. Gray sweater vest worn over a white shirt, no tie, a lot of unruly strands of hair falling into his face. His hands were awkwardly stuffed in his trouser pockets.
Their gazes locked for a moment.
Finally Hotch gave an almost imperceptible nod of understanding.
“Thank you, Agent Hotchner,” one of the cops said, putting his note pad in his back pocket.
“If there are any more questions, we’ll give you a call.”
With that, the policemen left. Reid stepped aside to let them exit the living room.
Thump, thump…
“You’re gonna be alright, man?” Morgan suddenly called from behind. He came in, halting next to Reid. “I could stay here a little…”
“No, no, it’s all right,” Hotch replied quickly, pushing himself away from the wall. “I’ll be fine, thank you.”
Reid inwardly winced at the calmness in his superior’s voice. Of course, it was totally in character. Hotch wasn’t one to break down and cry when being faced with dangerous, even life threatening situations. But still…
“Okay,” Morgan said and sighed. “Call me if you need anything.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
There, Reid thought. There it was. A little too quick Hotch had declined the offer. A little too fast he’d uttered the words.
“Glad you’re all right,” Morgan stated wholeheartedly. And, to ease the emotionality of the situation, “I’ll get myself an ankle holster too, I think.”
Both men laughed briefly. Uneasily.
And Morgan left without another word.
Reid listened to the door falling shut, never taking his eyes off his boss. He noticed how the fake smile died on his face as he moved to the bar to get himself a drink. He also noticed the slight tremor in Hotch’s hand as he poured himself a whiskey. Another one.
“Morgan called you?” the senior profiler asked after taking a big gulp of the reddish-brown liquid.
Reid nodded, but Hotch didn’t look. Therefore, he had to try and speak again. “Yeah…”
Thump, thump, thump…
The beating in his chest wasn’t getting slower. Rather on the contrary.
Why is that? Reid wondered briefly.
“He shouldn’t have,” the older man said and slowly moved towards the couch, the glass in his hand. “There’s no reason to worry. You really don’t have to…”
“I had to…” Reid interrupted him, not knowing how to explain what was going on inside him.
Hotch glanced up at him as he slumped down on the sofa. He furrowed his brow. “You look terrible,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“You look great,” Reid shot back - and blushed. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like that. “I mean…I…uhm…considering what happened…I think…”
He trailed off.
Damnit, damnit, damnit…
A sarcastic smile spread on Hotch’s features. “There was no time to break into a sweat.”
Both agents fell silent for a few very long seconds.
“So…what are you doing here?” the older man finally asked, taking another sip of his drink.
Reid’s eyes narrowed. What kind of question was that? Their boss had almost been killed by a serial killer. Wasn’t it the most natural thing that Reid wanted to make sure everything was all right? It was, wasn’t it?
“I was worried,” he explained simply.
Hotch rose from the couch, ready for another drink. “I told you there’s no reason to. He’s dead. All clear.”
Was it Reid’s confused perception or did Hotch actually sound irritated? The young doctor couldn’t tell. He watched his superior pour himself another whiskey.
Shifting on his feet, he eventually dared to reply. “I know,” he said. “I know he’s dead. I’m so glad…”
Suddenly Hotch put the glass on the coffee table with a loud thud. “Reid, why don’t you go home? It’s late.” He gave his subordinate one of those dark stares no one could ever hold for longer than a few seconds.
There was annoyance in his eyes; that much Reid could tell. Annoyance and exhaustion. And…what else?
The younger agent had two options. He could act like he usually would, meaning he could just comply with his boss’ wish and retreat. However, that didn’t seem right tonight. Despite himself, he decided to go for option two.
He held Hotch’s glare and slowly moved towards him. “You sure you’re all right?” he asked timidly. “He came to your home, after all. Invaded your private space. You know what that did to Elle and…” Reid swallowed hard. “And Gideon.”
The senior profiler’s gaze hardened as he watched Reid getting closer. “I’m not Gideon.”
“No, you’re not,” the younger man replied quietly. He stopped before his boss. “You’re nothing like him.”
Hotch scrutinized his agent. There was something oddly determined about the usually so very insecure doctor…but the senior profiler couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He decided to wait and see what would happen.
It turned out to be something rather unexpected.
Reid took another step closer.
Too close, Hotch’s mind screamed through the alcohol-induced fog that clouded his thoughts. He didn’t back away, though. Something made him stand still and watch the delicate features of his youngest team member. Perhaps it was the same part of him that had caused him to decline Morgan’s offer to stay.
Reid looked him in the eyes a little longer, and then dropped his gaze. “I can’t lose you too,” he said, aware that he shouldn’t utter something like that.
Thump, thump, thump…
“You won’t.”
Reid glanced up at him, noticing that his superior’s facial expression had softened. The young man averted his eyes and muttered, “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”
“Tell me what?” But Hotch knew, of course. It wasn’t so hard to guess. Don’t have to be a profiler to…
Ah, to hell with it.
The unit chief put his hands on Reid’s shoulders and pulled him close. He felt his subordinate’s slim frame lean against his, could feel the dampness of the sweaty shirt beneath his fingers and the fast thumping of Reid’s heart against his chest.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Hotch murmured - maybe more to assure himself. It had been close tonight. Too close. It shouldn’t have come to that, yet he knew that in their line of work, it could always happen again. Anytime. Anywhere. None of them were safe. Life could be over so quickly. One false move; one moment of heedlessness could be fatal.
Reid of all people knew that too well.
For a minute or two, the agents just held on to each other, both needing the reassurance that there was someone there for them, after all. Because, in a way, they were pretty alike. Neither of them had someone to go home to. No person was waiting for them; no one would ask whether they were all right or not. No one they could tell how the job was nagging on them, how alone they felt at times when the case was solved and the feeling that they just hadn’t made it in time settled in. The feeling of failure. And fear. The fear that someday they might lose one of their own. Again.
So wasn’t it natural that the two profilers sought comfort in each other?
Not like that, Hotch’s mind once again informed him. Once again he did not care.
“Want to stay for the night?” he asked hoarsely. He knew the young man wouldn’t dare ask. He had to offer…no, plead for it.
Reid pulled back a little so he could look Hotch in the eyes. “You sure? I…I don’t want to intrude…”
The ghost of a smile formed on the older man’s lips. “I’d rather not be alone,” he admitted, knowing that it had to be him who needed company. At least Reid needed to think that it was him. Otherwise, he figured, it would make the young genius once again feel pathetic and weak.
That’s my part tonight, Hotch decided.
Reid gave a slight nod. “OK.”
He followed Hotch across the hallway and into the bedroom. As the unit chief switched on the light, awkwardness crept upon them. “I, uhm, I think I have a mattress somewhere. You can have the bed…” the older man suggested.
But Reid shook his head. “You don’t have to sleep on a mattress in your own house. I haven’t come here to cause you…”
“Alright,” Hotch interrupted. “The bed is big enough, don’t you think?”
Fiddling with his hands, the young man glanced at the queen-sized bed. He was aware that Hotch used to share that very bed with Haley before…
…before everything had fallen apart in his boss’ private life. Another sacrifice the job had demanded.
Silently the two profilers undressed. Hotch quickly got rid of his work clothes, not even giving it a second thought that someone else was in the room. Reid, on the other hand, hesitated. Getting half-naked in front of another person wasn’t his favorite thing to do. He was very well aware of the fact that he didn’t have Hotch’s muscular shape and therefore somewhat dreaded to show himself without his clothes. But since his boss didn’t seem to care, he hastily stripped down to his boxers and then quickly climbed under the blanket.
He waited for Hotch to lie down as well, and then turned to the side, facing the wall.
The team leader switched off the light.
It was completely dark and silent, except for the two men’s breathing.
Thump, thump, thump…
Reid was almost sure that Hotch could hear his pounding heart. For a little while, he listened to the other man’s breathing.
“I almost died when Morgan called me,” he suddenly blurted. “Thought my heart would stop.”
Hotch sighed deeply. “Sorry I scared you.”
Now it was Reid’s turn to sigh. “Didn’t mean it like that. I’m just…” He swallowed. “I’m just so glad you weren’t hurt.”
Killed.
He couldn’t even bring himself to think the word.
“Don’t know what I would do if…” Reid fell silent when he felt Hotch’s arm sneak around his frame, his hand coming to rest on his chest.
He froze.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Hotch repeated. He could feel Reid’s muscles tense under his touch and not for the first time he wondered if the young man had ever been close to another person. Physically close. Had he ever spent the night with someone? Or had he spent every single night of life on his own? All these questions were running through Hotch’s mind as he slowly started to stroke across the young agent’s chest. Why he did this, he had no idea. He’d been with men before during his college time, yet it had never occurred to him that Reid - Reid of all people - could make him feel like that.
He let his fingers brush over his agent’s nipples, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the younger man.
“Do you want me to stop?” he murmured in Reid’s ear. He had to be sure, after all.
Reid let out the breath he’d held. “No,” he whispered and - ever so lightly - pushed back against Hotch’s frame.
The unit chief couldn’t suppress a groan at the sudden increase of pressure against his body. He gave an involuntary thrust forward and started to let his hand move further down Reid’s front. With his palm he covered the bulge that formed in the young man’s boxers, rubbing across the fabric.
“Oh God…” Reid hissed.
Hotch took that as encouragement to proceed. His fingers deftly snuck under Reid’s boxer shorts and began touching him for real. Slow but firm movements that were soon rewarded with equally long-drawn moans from the younger man’s mouth.
With his free hand, Hotch freed his own aching manhood and continued to push forward. He was careful not to lose control over himself. Certainly he wasn’t going to fuck his agent tonight. For that, he just knew too little about him. He had no idea whether Reid had made any experiences with other men - or women or whether his only sexual experiences had been ‘self-inflicted’. Hotch didn’t want to use his position and risk to damage his subordinate in the process.
And there were other ways to take what he needed.
To feel Reid’s arousal in his hand; to hear his pleasure in those small, needy moans was a turn-on itself.
Without ever stopping his movements, Hotch forced Reid’s legs apart with his knee. He thrust between them, seeking the friction, as he kept massaging and stroking his companion.
Overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of the pleasure Hotch gave him, the young agent held on to the older man’s arm, subtly urging him to keep moving.
“Don’t think,” the senior profiler whispered several times when he felt the other man tense in his arms. “Don’t…think…”
Reid closed his eyes and gave in to it. The analytic part of his brain, for once, shut down and left its owner drifting with the flow of want and need. He did feel Hotch tense behind him, felt the older man tremble against his back. And he pushed back in an attempt to help him through the climax, take him to that wonderful state he was going to reach himself so soon. The state of utter surrender would last only for a few seconds but that didn’t matter because time was non existent there.
Reid sensed it coming only when there was already no turning back anymore. He dug his fingers into Hotch’s arm, arching his back as the orgasmic waves raged through his body.
The older man drew him closer with his hand pressing firmly against the spot on his chest where he could feel Reid’s heartbeat the most.
Thump, thump…
Thump…
The younger man relaxed against his boss. He inhaled deeply, devouring the scent of sweat and lust that lay thickly in the bedroom air. And, he noticed with relief, for the first time since Morgan had called him earlier this evening, his heart calmed down. It wasn’t racing anymore, but beating slowly and steadily.
“Sleep,” Hotch murmured against his neck. He kissed him lightly on that sensitive spot between his ear and his jaw, while he used a tissue from the nightstand to clean them both up a bit.
“Hmm…”
The team leader smiled to himself when he heard Reid’s breathing getting slower, indicating that the young man was already falling asleep. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Author: LTxYx
Rating: FRAO/NC-17/Slash
Pairing: Hotch/Reid
Wordcount: ~ 3100
Summary: He'd almost died tonight. And they both knew it could always happen again. Anytime, anywhere. (Set after season 4 finale. Spoilers for that episode)
Too Close
His lungs burned as if they were on fire. His heart was racing, pounding heavily, almost painfully in his chest.
Thump, thump, thump…
When Spencer Reid arrived at Hotch’s house, he thought he was close to a collapse. He’d been shopping in the area when he’d gotten the call. Morgan had phoned him and told him about their boss’ unexpected, and most unwanted, visitor. The reaper. George Foyet had made his terrible comeback.
He tried to kill Hotch.
That’s what Morgan had said on the phone. Followed by the quick addition:
But he’s alright. He’s alright. He shot Foyet.
For a moment, Reid had to support himself on the metal handrail before Hotch’s house. Two police cars and an ambulance were parked in front of the building. Since there was no one to be seen in the vehicles, the young agent figured that the policemen and the medics were still in the house.
The door suddenly flung open, giving Reid a considerable scare.
Thump, thump, thump…
He pressed his palm against his chest as if he could calm his heartbeat down that way. He looked up and saw two men exiting Hotch’s house, carrying a stretcher. On the stretcher, no doubt, lay the corpse of the reaper. It was covered with a thin, white blanket which was already soaked with blood in the middle.
Reid took a step back to let the men through, and then forced himself to go inside. As he walked through the door, his heart was still beating so loud that every other sound seemed to be muffled by it. He felt the blood rush through his veins in brusque intervals that matched the throbbing in his chest.
“Hey,” Morgan called as soon as he spotted his colleague entering the hallway.
Reid spun around. “What happened?” he asked and instantly wondered if Morgan had heard the question. His own voice sounded so very distant to him, as if someone had talked to him through a wall. His heartbeat was echoing in his ears. Why he was still so extremely agitated, he didn’t know. Hotch was alive, after all.
Thump, thump, thump…
“The guy was waiting here for Hotch. Lurking in the shadows,” Morgan said with a grim expression on his face. He remembered his encounter with the reaper and it wasn’t a pleasant memory at all.
Reid licked his lips. He could taste the salt of his sweat that had run down his face. He hastily wiped his forehead with his sleeve, and then glanced around. “Where is he?”
Morgan cocked his head, motioning towards the living room. “The cops are questioning him.”
The young man nodded numbly, before turning around. He had to see him. He needed to see him in the flesh. On the threshold, he stopped short.
There he was. Unit chief Aaron Hotchner as the world knew him. Black suit, neat tie, not a single lock of black hair was out of place. With his arms folded, he leaned against the wall, facing two police officers.
Thump, thump, thump…
Hotch shifted his gaze and saw his youngest team member stand in the door frame. The genius boy as the world knew him. Gray sweater vest worn over a white shirt, no tie, a lot of unruly strands of hair falling into his face. His hands were awkwardly stuffed in his trouser pockets.
Their gazes locked for a moment.
Finally Hotch gave an almost imperceptible nod of understanding.
“Thank you, Agent Hotchner,” one of the cops said, putting his note pad in his back pocket.
“If there are any more questions, we’ll give you a call.”
With that, the policemen left. Reid stepped aside to let them exit the living room.
Thump, thump…
“You’re gonna be alright, man?” Morgan suddenly called from behind. He came in, halting next to Reid. “I could stay here a little…”
“No, no, it’s all right,” Hotch replied quickly, pushing himself away from the wall. “I’ll be fine, thank you.”
Reid inwardly winced at the calmness in his superior’s voice. Of course, it was totally in character. Hotch wasn’t one to break down and cry when being faced with dangerous, even life threatening situations. But still…
“Okay,” Morgan said and sighed. “Call me if you need anything.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
There, Reid thought. There it was. A little too quick Hotch had declined the offer. A little too fast he’d uttered the words.
“Glad you’re all right,” Morgan stated wholeheartedly. And, to ease the emotionality of the situation, “I’ll get myself an ankle holster too, I think.”
Both men laughed briefly. Uneasily.
And Morgan left without another word.
Reid listened to the door falling shut, never taking his eyes off his boss. He noticed how the fake smile died on his face as he moved to the bar to get himself a drink. He also noticed the slight tremor in Hotch’s hand as he poured himself a whiskey. Another one.
“Morgan called you?” the senior profiler asked after taking a big gulp of the reddish-brown liquid.
Reid nodded, but Hotch didn’t look. Therefore, he had to try and speak again. “Yeah…”
Thump, thump, thump…
The beating in his chest wasn’t getting slower. Rather on the contrary.
Why is that? Reid wondered briefly.
“He shouldn’t have,” the older man said and slowly moved towards the couch, the glass in his hand. “There’s no reason to worry. You really don’t have to…”
“I had to…” Reid interrupted him, not knowing how to explain what was going on inside him.
Hotch glanced up at him as he slumped down on the sofa. He furrowed his brow. “You look terrible,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“You look great,” Reid shot back - and blushed. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like that. “I mean…I…uhm…considering what happened…I think…”
He trailed off.
Damnit, damnit, damnit…
A sarcastic smile spread on Hotch’s features. “There was no time to break into a sweat.”
Both agents fell silent for a few very long seconds.
“So…what are you doing here?” the older man finally asked, taking another sip of his drink.
Reid’s eyes narrowed. What kind of question was that? Their boss had almost been killed by a serial killer. Wasn’t it the most natural thing that Reid wanted to make sure everything was all right? It was, wasn’t it?
“I was worried,” he explained simply.
Hotch rose from the couch, ready for another drink. “I told you there’s no reason to. He’s dead. All clear.”
Was it Reid’s confused perception or did Hotch actually sound irritated? The young doctor couldn’t tell. He watched his superior pour himself another whiskey.
Shifting on his feet, he eventually dared to reply. “I know,” he said. “I know he’s dead. I’m so glad…”
Suddenly Hotch put the glass on the coffee table with a loud thud. “Reid, why don’t you go home? It’s late.” He gave his subordinate one of those dark stares no one could ever hold for longer than a few seconds.
There was annoyance in his eyes; that much Reid could tell. Annoyance and exhaustion. And…what else?
The younger agent had two options. He could act like he usually would, meaning he could just comply with his boss’ wish and retreat. However, that didn’t seem right tonight. Despite himself, he decided to go for option two.
He held Hotch’s glare and slowly moved towards him. “You sure you’re all right?” he asked timidly. “He came to your home, after all. Invaded your private space. You know what that did to Elle and…” Reid swallowed hard. “And Gideon.”
The senior profiler’s gaze hardened as he watched Reid getting closer. “I’m not Gideon.”
“No, you’re not,” the younger man replied quietly. He stopped before his boss. “You’re nothing like him.”
Hotch scrutinized his agent. There was something oddly determined about the usually so very insecure doctor…but the senior profiler couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He decided to wait and see what would happen.
It turned out to be something rather unexpected.
Reid took another step closer.
Too close, Hotch’s mind screamed through the alcohol-induced fog that clouded his thoughts. He didn’t back away, though. Something made him stand still and watch the delicate features of his youngest team member. Perhaps it was the same part of him that had caused him to decline Morgan’s offer to stay.
Reid looked him in the eyes a little longer, and then dropped his gaze. “I can’t lose you too,” he said, aware that he shouldn’t utter something like that.
Thump, thump, thump…
“You won’t.”
Reid glanced up at him, noticing that his superior’s facial expression had softened. The young man averted his eyes and muttered, “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”
“Tell me what?” But Hotch knew, of course. It wasn’t so hard to guess. Don’t have to be a profiler to…
Ah, to hell with it.
The unit chief put his hands on Reid’s shoulders and pulled him close. He felt his subordinate’s slim frame lean against his, could feel the dampness of the sweaty shirt beneath his fingers and the fast thumping of Reid’s heart against his chest.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Hotch murmured - maybe more to assure himself. It had been close tonight. Too close. It shouldn’t have come to that, yet he knew that in their line of work, it could always happen again. Anytime. Anywhere. None of them were safe. Life could be over so quickly. One false move; one moment of heedlessness could be fatal.
Reid of all people knew that too well.
For a minute or two, the agents just held on to each other, both needing the reassurance that there was someone there for them, after all. Because, in a way, they were pretty alike. Neither of them had someone to go home to. No person was waiting for them; no one would ask whether they were all right or not. No one they could tell how the job was nagging on them, how alone they felt at times when the case was solved and the feeling that they just hadn’t made it in time settled in. The feeling of failure. And fear. The fear that someday they might lose one of their own. Again.
So wasn’t it natural that the two profilers sought comfort in each other?
Not like that, Hotch’s mind once again informed him. Once again he did not care.
“Want to stay for the night?” he asked hoarsely. He knew the young man wouldn’t dare ask. He had to offer…no, plead for it.
Reid pulled back a little so he could look Hotch in the eyes. “You sure? I…I don’t want to intrude…”
The ghost of a smile formed on the older man’s lips. “I’d rather not be alone,” he admitted, knowing that it had to be him who needed company. At least Reid needed to think that it was him. Otherwise, he figured, it would make the young genius once again feel pathetic and weak.
That’s my part tonight, Hotch decided.
Reid gave a slight nod. “OK.”
He followed Hotch across the hallway and into the bedroom. As the unit chief switched on the light, awkwardness crept upon them. “I, uhm, I think I have a mattress somewhere. You can have the bed…” the older man suggested.
But Reid shook his head. “You don’t have to sleep on a mattress in your own house. I haven’t come here to cause you…”
“Alright,” Hotch interrupted. “The bed is big enough, don’t you think?”
Fiddling with his hands, the young man glanced at the queen-sized bed. He was aware that Hotch used to share that very bed with Haley before…
…before everything had fallen apart in his boss’ private life. Another sacrifice the job had demanded.
Silently the two profilers undressed. Hotch quickly got rid of his work clothes, not even giving it a second thought that someone else was in the room. Reid, on the other hand, hesitated. Getting half-naked in front of another person wasn’t his favorite thing to do. He was very well aware of the fact that he didn’t have Hotch’s muscular shape and therefore somewhat dreaded to show himself without his clothes. But since his boss didn’t seem to care, he hastily stripped down to his boxers and then quickly climbed under the blanket.
He waited for Hotch to lie down as well, and then turned to the side, facing the wall.
The team leader switched off the light.
It was completely dark and silent, except for the two men’s breathing.
Thump, thump, thump…
Reid was almost sure that Hotch could hear his pounding heart. For a little while, he listened to the other man’s breathing.
“I almost died when Morgan called me,” he suddenly blurted. “Thought my heart would stop.”
Hotch sighed deeply. “Sorry I scared you.”
Now it was Reid’s turn to sigh. “Didn’t mean it like that. I’m just…” He swallowed. “I’m just so glad you weren’t hurt.”
Killed.
He couldn’t even bring himself to think the word.
“Don’t know what I would do if…” Reid fell silent when he felt Hotch’s arm sneak around his frame, his hand coming to rest on his chest.
He froze.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Hotch repeated. He could feel Reid’s muscles tense under his touch and not for the first time he wondered if the young man had ever been close to another person. Physically close. Had he ever spent the night with someone? Or had he spent every single night of life on his own? All these questions were running through Hotch’s mind as he slowly started to stroke across the young agent’s chest. Why he did this, he had no idea. He’d been with men before during his college time, yet it had never occurred to him that Reid - Reid of all people - could make him feel like that.
He let his fingers brush over his agent’s nipples, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the younger man.
“Do you want me to stop?” he murmured in Reid’s ear. He had to be sure, after all.
Reid let out the breath he’d held. “No,” he whispered and - ever so lightly - pushed back against Hotch’s frame.
The unit chief couldn’t suppress a groan at the sudden increase of pressure against his body. He gave an involuntary thrust forward and started to let his hand move further down Reid’s front. With his palm he covered the bulge that formed in the young man’s boxers, rubbing across the fabric.
“Oh God…” Reid hissed.
Hotch took that as encouragement to proceed. His fingers deftly snuck under Reid’s boxer shorts and began touching him for real. Slow but firm movements that were soon rewarded with equally long-drawn moans from the younger man’s mouth.
With his free hand, Hotch freed his own aching manhood and continued to push forward. He was careful not to lose control over himself. Certainly he wasn’t going to fuck his agent tonight. For that, he just knew too little about him. He had no idea whether Reid had made any experiences with other men - or women or whether his only sexual experiences had been ‘self-inflicted’. Hotch didn’t want to use his position and risk to damage his subordinate in the process.
And there were other ways to take what he needed.
To feel Reid’s arousal in his hand; to hear his pleasure in those small, needy moans was a turn-on itself.
Without ever stopping his movements, Hotch forced Reid’s legs apart with his knee. He thrust between them, seeking the friction, as he kept massaging and stroking his companion.
Overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of the pleasure Hotch gave him, the young agent held on to the older man’s arm, subtly urging him to keep moving.
“Don’t think,” the senior profiler whispered several times when he felt the other man tense in his arms. “Don’t…think…”
Reid closed his eyes and gave in to it. The analytic part of his brain, for once, shut down and left its owner drifting with the flow of want and need. He did feel Hotch tense behind him, felt the older man tremble against his back. And he pushed back in an attempt to help him through the climax, take him to that wonderful state he was going to reach himself so soon. The state of utter surrender would last only for a few seconds but that didn’t matter because time was non existent there.
Reid sensed it coming only when there was already no turning back anymore. He dug his fingers into Hotch’s arm, arching his back as the orgasmic waves raged through his body.
The older man drew him closer with his hand pressing firmly against the spot on his chest where he could feel Reid’s heartbeat the most.
Thump, thump…
Thump…
The younger man relaxed against his boss. He inhaled deeply, devouring the scent of sweat and lust that lay thickly in the bedroom air. And, he noticed with relief, for the first time since Morgan had called him earlier this evening, his heart calmed down. It wasn’t racing anymore, but beating slowly and steadily.
“Sleep,” Hotch murmured against his neck. He kissed him lightly on that sensitive spot between his ear and his jaw, while he used a tissue from the nightstand to clean them both up a bit.
“Hmm…”
The team leader smiled to himself when he heard Reid’s breathing getting slower, indicating that the young man was already falling asleep. “I’m not going anywhere.”