Fic: "Taking Inventory," Criminal Minds, Hotch/Rossi, R.
You've got to love my brain. After watching a VERY Morgan/Garcia-centric episode, I come out writing Hotch/Rossi fic. WTF? I have no explanation.
Title: “Taking Inventory” 1/1
Author: monimala
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating/Pairing: R, Hotch/Rossi, slash, post-ep for 7.13, “Snake Eyes.”
Disclaimer: Not my characters, and I’m not making a profit from their use.
Summary: 375 words. Written for Porn Battle XIII, for the prompts “rough” and “abandonment.”
After the tough ones, Aaron is always angry at him. As if Dave wronged him somehow by taking a calculated risk, by talking to a killer face-to-face and watching the delicate ticks of the clock instead of paying mind to the gun pointed unsteadily at his head. It’s not a boiling, volcanic, fury --even on his worst day, Aaron Hotchner isn’t capable of that lack of control-- it’s just ruthless, hard, unyielding, like the sharp points of his hips and the planes of his chest.
Aaron slams him into walls, drags his shirt out of his tailored slacks and ruins all the clean, ironed lines of both. He’s fierce, punishing, and silent… choosing to berate Dave with the cut of his blunt nails and the slide of his teeth along his throat. He lectures him with kisses that draw blood and disciplines him with beautifully cruel squeezes of his cock.
The profilers in them know it’s because of Haley. Because of Foyet. The partners in them, who’ve known each other for years and can anticipate every thought, every move, every breath, know it’s because Aaron cannot stand to lose him, too, after everything else.
Aaron clutches fistfuls of his hair, brackets him with his knees, and burns five-finger impressions into Dave’s neck, his biceps, his hips and his thighs. He doesn’t leave a single inch untouched, as if cataloguing items for an intimate audit.
Dave lets him, sprawling compliant and complacent on the perfectly made bed… sheets tucked so tight that not even Hotch’s whirlwind can muss them. And he is the one who talks. He doesn’t offer apologies, because apologizing for doing his job would be futile, only assurances. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, closing his lips around Aaron’s earlobe and giving a gentle tug. “I’m safe,” he whispers, as Aaron slicks up with the lube from the bedside table and unrolls a condom. “I love you,” he gasps out, when Aaron impales himself on Dave’s cock and begins to ride him as brutally as he prepped him. It’s fast and relentless and somehow sacred, like fucking an avenging angel.
After the tough ones, Aaron is always angry at him… and Dave is always unfailingly sentimental.
Because, he, too, knows something of loss.
--end--
February 11, 2012
Title: “Taking Inventory” 1/1
Author: monimala
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating/Pairing: R, Hotch/Rossi, slash, post-ep for 7.13, “Snake Eyes.”
Disclaimer: Not my characters, and I’m not making a profit from their use.
Summary: 375 words. Written for Porn Battle XIII, for the prompts “rough” and “abandonment.”
After the tough ones, Aaron is always angry at him. As if Dave wronged him somehow by taking a calculated risk, by talking to a killer face-to-face and watching the delicate ticks of the clock instead of paying mind to the gun pointed unsteadily at his head. It’s not a boiling, volcanic, fury --even on his worst day, Aaron Hotchner isn’t capable of that lack of control-- it’s just ruthless, hard, unyielding, like the sharp points of his hips and the planes of his chest.
Aaron slams him into walls, drags his shirt out of his tailored slacks and ruins all the clean, ironed lines of both. He’s fierce, punishing, and silent… choosing to berate Dave with the cut of his blunt nails and the slide of his teeth along his throat. He lectures him with kisses that draw blood and disciplines him with beautifully cruel squeezes of his cock.
The profilers in them know it’s because of Haley. Because of Foyet. The partners in them, who’ve known each other for years and can anticipate every thought, every move, every breath, know it’s because Aaron cannot stand to lose him, too, after everything else.
Aaron clutches fistfuls of his hair, brackets him with his knees, and burns five-finger impressions into Dave’s neck, his biceps, his hips and his thighs. He doesn’t leave a single inch untouched, as if cataloguing items for an intimate audit.
Dave lets him, sprawling compliant and complacent on the perfectly made bed… sheets tucked so tight that not even Hotch’s whirlwind can muss them. And he is the one who talks. He doesn’t offer apologies, because apologizing for doing his job would be futile, only assurances. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, closing his lips around Aaron’s earlobe and giving a gentle tug. “I’m safe,” he whispers, as Aaron slicks up with the lube from the bedside table and unrolls a condom. “I love you,” he gasps out, when Aaron impales himself on Dave’s cock and begins to ride him as brutally as he prepped him. It’s fast and relentless and somehow sacred, like fucking an avenging angel.
After the tough ones, Aaron is always angry at him… and Dave is always unfailingly sentimental.
Because, he, too, knows something of loss.
--end--
February 11, 2012