Fic: Surprises -- NC-17
Title: Surprises
Author: lovetheboys
Pairing: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Rating: NC-17 (Seriously!)
Warnings: Kinks ahoy!
1. Semi-public sex.
2. Sort of strip tease...
3. Cuddling, I guess...
4. dirty!sex.
5. Mild D/s play.
Author's Note: If anyone spots weird tense changes, I'd appreciate a note.
This is my first "# Things" fic, basically, “Four Things About Spencer that Surprised Derek and One that Didn't.”
...Okay, so it's basically five PWPs in one. Enjoy!
*****
1. Spencer cornered Derek in the restroom, came up behind him at the sink and palmed the front of his jeans.
Derek looked over his shoulder at Spencer, raised his eyebrows. “Here, pretty boy?”
“Fast,” Spencer said in his ear, his voice low. His hands didn't shake as he unzipped Derek's jeans, slipping his hand inside briefly before Derek turned around. “I want your hands,” he added before Derek claimed his mouth.
“Not that I'm complaining,” Derek said, his lips moving against Spencer's jaw as he slipped past layers of fabric to wrap his fingers around Spencer's cock. “What brought this on?”
“Mmm,” Spencer hummed, pressing his hips forward, his own fingers squeezing Derek's hardening length. “You're sexy behind the wheel,” he murmured, tilting his head forward to nip at Derek's shoulder through his shirt.
Derek laughed before catching his breath as Spencer gave a strong, slow pull. “Car chases turn you on, Spencer?” he asked.
“Adrenaline,” Spencer said.
“Adrenaline rushes are part of the job,” Derek reminded him, leaning back against the sink briefly. “You don't usually jump me after.”
Spencer's eyes fluttered closed as Derek thumbed the head of his cock, rubbing slowly. Derek smirked when Spencer's hips twitched, closer, as if he wanted to thrust but held himself back. He leaned forward and sucked on Spencer's lip briefly; couldn't mark him up in the bathroom right before wrap-up.
Much as he wanted to.
“Your control of the car was amazing,” Spencer said.
Derek's eyebrows flew up; that was a loaded statement. “You like it when I'm in control?” Derek asked, his voice going low as the implications flew around his brain. Not that they hadn't played a little along those lines before, but this was much more direct.
“Competency is a kink,” Spencer said, then gasped again, biting his lip. Derek knew they were past talking now. He tilted his hips forward until he pressed against Spencer, their cocks lining up.
Wrapping one hand in Spencer's hair and the other around their dicks, Derek took over the rhythm and brought Spencer's mouth down, sucking on his tongue as he worked efficiently to bring them both off.
He had the presence of mind to cup his palm over the heads of their cocks so they didn't make a huge mess they'd have to explain. Spencer gripped his shoulders for a few seconds as he panted through his orgasm, keeping himself upright.
Derek placed one last kiss on Spencer's lips before turning back to the sink to wash his hands. In the mirror he watched Spencer's long fingers work at tugging his clothes back into order. “You coming over tonight?” he asked, knowing their wrap-up here wouldn't take long; they'd be back home and doing paperwork for a few days.
“If you want me to,” Spencer said, still uncertain of his welcome after several months. Derek smiled warmly.
“Oh, I want you,” Derek said, drying off his hands. He put his own clothing back in order and slid his hand around Spencer's waist. “Never doubt that, pretty boy,” he added, squeezing and then releasing. For good measure he pinched lightly at Spencer's left cheek, grinning at the wide-eyed, slightly scandalized look he received in return.
2. With his clothes on, Spencer Reid seems gawky, awkward, even clumsy at times when his brain is whirling at a million miles a minute and not bothering to control his body.
With his clothes off, Spencer Reid is surprisingly graceful. It's like the extra weight of the clothes throws off his natural grace. Or possibly it's that when Derek has Spencer naked his brain is not exactly going around in circles trying to find the right answer and messing with the physical controls.
Now that he thinks about it, the grace actually starts once they're in private. Once the eyes of everyone else are gone, once it's only Spencer and Derek, more weight leaves Spencer's shoulders. He stands a little taller as he discards his sweater-vest. His hands fly gracefully as he speaks, making some point which Derek stopped listening to several minutes ago. When Spencer notices that Derek is no longer paying attention, he merely smiles and lets himself fall back on the couch, content with silence for the moment.
Derek invites himself into Spencer's personal space, sliding next to him on the couch, letting his hand trace up from Spencer's waist to his neck, fingers catching Spencer's jaw and bringing his mouth around.
The kisses start off slow; sucking gently on lips and tongues, playful, gentle nips and quiet sighs. Then Spencer moves, presses Derek back on the couch, straddles Derek and pauses above him. Derek's hands are loose around Spencer's back, his fingers splayed across the fabric. Spencer's hands frame the back of his head, tilt Derek's face up until they are grinning right into each other's faces. The kisses heat up, deeper, harder suction, now with some subtle hip motions added in on Spencer's part.
Spencer starts to sway from side to side, the rhythm prompted by whatever song is playing in his head. With his eidetic memory, he has many songs in his head, some that begin playing with only one word to prompt it. Derek will sometimes catch him tapping his fingers to the beat, but Spencer, for all his skills, can't sing a note so he will never even hum.
Derek's fingers grip Spencer's ass, following the beat Spencer has set. Then he pushes Spencer away, upward until their mouths are no longer connected. Spencer looks surprised, but scrambles to his feet when Derek moves to get up.
Derek shakes his head before Spencer can start to apologize or whatever he was about to start rambling about. He holds his hand out, begins to move his hips to the same beat they'd just abandoned, making the “come here” gesture with his fingers. Spencer doesn't dance; whenever they go to clubs, if anyone asks him, he blushes and stammers that he's a terrible dancer and thank you anyway.
But here, Spencer moves into Derek's embrace, one arm thrown over Derek's shoulder, the other around his waist. Instead of putting his hands on Spencer, Derek begins to unbutton his shirt. Spencer bites his lip when Derek pushes the shirt off his shoulders, slides his hands over skin no one else sees, no one else appreciates the way he does.
Color spreads across Spencer's cheeks when Derek's hands move towards his waistband, but Spencer doesn't flinch and doesn't trip when his pants fall to the floor. They just dance until he steps out of them, clad only in his boxers now. Without losing the beat, Spencer begins to undress Derek, lifting his shirt over his head.
While his hands are stretched up, Derek takes advantage of the access, leans down to suck on skin, make his way down to Spencer's nipples. Spencer cries out, one hand wrapping around Derek's head, fingers smoothing over the stubble there, encouraging the movement of Derek's mouth over his chest.
The groan Derek lets out then is half growl, and Spencer echoes his sound, bringing Derek's lips back to his. Soon Derek's pants are on the ground with Spencer's, and Spencer is gently leading them both, still swaying, back towards Derek's bedroom.
3. Derek is a touchy-feely guy. It had started as overcompensating for what happened to him, blotting out the memories with lots of casual touches that he controlled. But it took on a life of its own until he became the kind of guy who was comfortable with casual contact.
Spencer is pretty much the opposite.
While always discreet in the field, Derek is often surprised at the casual touches he gets that others don't. Spencer will let his hand overlap Derek's when handing over a cup of coffee. He'll casually touch Derek's shoulder when dropping files at his desk or sometimes even grab him to make a point.
It took him a while to realize how special these touches were, and that more special was the fact that Spencer didn't flinch when Derek touched him.
He didn't realize until after they started sleeping together that Spencer seemed to have relaxed his no-touch rule for Derek and Derek alone. After Spencer became confident of his welcome in Derek's bed, there seemed to be no stopping him.
After sex, Spencer will lie on top of Derek, plastered together with sweat and come. He sometimes falls asleep like that, happily leaving it to Derek to clean them up if he wanted to. Spencer is a power-cuddler in bed and in private, wrapping his long limbs around Derek, pressing his face into Derek's shoulder, chest, neck, wherever he happened to fall.
Out in the field, when he sees Spencer shuffle-step away from whoever is getting too close, he smiles to himself, knowing that if he were to come up behind Spencer, he would lean slightly backwards, towards Derek's heat. It felt like a gift he'd been given, and he intended to keep that gift to himself.
4. Spencer is a borderline germphobic. Derek knew this almost as soon as he met Spencer. He washes his hands four or five times a day, avoids being touched or touching, and always makes sure he has gloves for crime scenes.
So when Spencer turned out to like sex down and dirty, Derek was pleasantly shocked.
Derek first discovered this fact one night when he came home from teaching a self-defense class at Quantico. He was still overheated, covered in sweat, and hoped he could jump in the shower before Spencer realized he was home.
But before he'd gotten halfway down the hall to the bathroom, Spencer was next to him, his fingers already creeping under the wet hem of Derek's shirt. Derek laughed and twisted slightly away before he could control the movement. “I'll be out of the shower in a second, Spencer,” he said, still moving forward.
Spencer firmed his grip, the touch no longer tickling. “I like you like this. You smell,” Spencer paused to lean into Derek's neck and inhale. Derek considered taking umbrage at that. “Hot,” Spencer finished, and Derek's eyebrows shot up.
“You buy into the human pheromone theory?” he asked, not pushing Spencer away.
“Haven't read sufficient evidence to 'buy into' it or not,” he mumbled into the skin of Derek's shoulder. “I just like you when you smell more like you. Mornings, after a run, after a class, when you've been playing with Clooney...” He trailed off as he stripped the shirt off over Derek's head.
“Don't I smell like dog when I've been playing with Clooney?” Derek asked, then felt a little dizzy when Spencer went to his knees on the floor and tugged down his track pants.
Wordless now, Spencer just shook his head and began placing sucking, nipping kisses around Derek's belly and thighs, then worked his way down to Derek's cock which was beginning to show interest. Derek's fingers twined through Spencer's hair, combing through the strands briefly before gripping close to his scalp. Not hard, just enough to anchor himself in the real world before Spencer's mouth sent him into orbit.
And yes, he'd discovered that Spencer liked a touch of domination, but he didn't feel dominant right now; he felt like putty in Spencer's hands-mouth, really. Nothing wrong with the tables being reversed.
His head fell back, thunking against the wall lightly, his eyes rolling behind closed eyelids.
When the hot wet slipped off his cock, he looked down to find Spencer stripping off his shirts. Derek licked his lips as naked skin was revealed, started to get down on the floor with Spencer if that was what he wanted.
But Spencer stopped him, looking up at him with eyes slitted just a tad and not quite meeting his gaze. “I've heard about this one thing, and it's apparently a pretty common thing that people like, and despite the feminist critique of the subject I feel it sort of goes back to the whole marking/claiming fetish, not dissimilar to hickeys and bite marks on skin. Only more transitory. I want...” Spencer trailed off, and Derek raised his eyebrows, patient, his hands back on Spencer's head and stroking his hair gently. Like with all things, Spencer would eventually get around to what he wanted to say. “I want you to ejaculate on me,” Spencer finally blurted out.
Derek's eyes slammed shut and his hand went to the base of his cock to squeeze. “Damn, Spencer,” he gasped a few moments later after he'd controlled the urge to come. He opened his eyes, saw Spencer looking scared and bracing himself for rejection. “Oh, Pretty Boy, you only ever have to ask,” he said softly, bending down and bringing Spencer's mouth to his.
Spencer groaned into the kiss, the long fingers of one hand wrapping around Derek's cock, stroking him slowly as Derek straightened back up. He watched as Spencer jerked them both off, his hands keeping the same pace on himself and on Derek.
Derek felt himself getting closer, and took over stroking. Spencer took the opportunity to play with Derek's balls, leaning forward to lick and suck them, keeping his eyes open and on Derek's face the whole time. Waiting.
“Damn, Spencer,” he said again, his knees starting to shake.
Spencer sat in front of Derek, his hand stilled on his own cock. He waited, poised, watching Derek's hand moving, his mouth half-open, the tip of his tongue poking out to wet his lips.
It was too much for Derek, the shock and pleasure at the request, and he let himself go, watched his come cover Spencer's face, neck, chest. Watched as Spencer came as well, the tendons in his throat prominent as he threw his head back and groaned through his orgasm.
Derek dropped to his knees on the floor and pulled Spencer to him before his lover was quite done. A few drops of his come landed on Derek's abdomen as they kissed, and Derek smiled. “Come on, Pretty Boy,” he said, pulling back to suck on Spencer's lip. “Come take a shower with me.”
5. Spencer talked a lot. He felt better, more in control of a situation when he could talk through it, make sense of it by analyzing it to death.
No surprise then, that Spencer could be pretty verbal in bed. It wasn't even sexy all the time; often it was statistics. Never anything bad, just interesting factoids about what the American public claims they like in the bedroom, the most popular lubricants, sex toys, videos. Derek wondered once where Spencer got his information, and only gets a lecture on the value of information in response.
It was also not so shocking that when Spencer felt like giving up control he tried not to speak. Derek couldn't gag him, or tie him up. But he told Spencer to be quiet, made him suck on his fingers, kissed him to keep him from speaking.
Derek was also good with his words, though less free with them than Spencer was-'why use three when thirty-five will do'? seemed to be Spencer's motto-but that doesn't mean he uses them to less effect.
“Oh Spencer,” Derek sighed, kissing Spencer's belly, dragging the edges of his teeth lightly over the skin. “The things I want to do to you.” He surveyed the body in front of him; stretched out in his bed, one leg bent and the other splayed out, his hands and wrists buried in the pillows under his head. Derek sat next to him, arms stretched out, almost spanning the length of Spencer's body.
Spencer's eyes were wide but his lips stayed wrapped around two of Derek's fingers, just like he'd ordered. “Don't look so surprised,” Derek said. “I love it when you're all spread out for me, waiting to see what I can do to you, what I will do to you.” His hand trailed down to Spencer's crotch where there was a ring snug around the base of Spencer's cock. “How long can you wait, Spencer, before you start begging to come?”
Spencer blushed and sucked hard on Derek's middle finger, nipping gently at the skin before licking the little hurt away. Derek bit back a groan at the feelings.
“You are so hot, Spencer,” he said, moving to his lover's nipples and biting one, then the other. Spencer moaned low and arched into Derek's mouth, and Derek spent a few more moments sucking and licking at Spencer's nipples. “If I let it, it'll drive me crazy in the field, watching you move around so covered up when I know exactly what is under all that fabric. How you most likely have a few bite marks here,” Derek traces Spencer's collarbone lightly. “Or here,” he adds, letting his finger slip behind Spencer's body and tracing the edge of his shoulder blade. “Or here,” he says one more time, tracing his hand down Spencer's inner thigh where Derek liked to tease him.
He didn't touch Spencer's cock, which lay heavy against his belly, twitching occasionally with Spencer's interest.
“And when you bend over a desk, looking at pictures or studying a map,” Derek made tsking sounds. “It's hard to control myself sometimes, Pretty Boy.” He shifted Spencer's legs, spreading them and making a place for himself. “It's hard not to come up behind you, rub against you and see how fast you could be ready for me.”
Spencer groaned once at his words, and then again when Derek's fingers slipped from his mouth. “Derek, please,” he said, not desperate yet, just wanting to talk.
“Shh. Time to control that mouth of yours, Spencer,” he said gently. Spencer closed his lips, pursing them together. Derek rewarded that by bending and licking a torturous stroke from his balls to the head of his cock. Spencer's mouth opened, but he only gasped and whimpered slightly.
Derek slid his wet fingers down behind Spencer's balls, teased them around Spencer's opening until Spencer spread his legs wider for him, surrendered to him of his own volition.
“Wouldn't take long, would it?” he asked, sliding one finger inside and reveling in the way Spencer's hips moved towards him, begging without words for more. “Wouldn't take long at all for you to be ready for me.” Spencer shook his head, answering the rhetorical question, and Derek knew his brain was still too engaged, so he sought out Spencer's prostate and rubbed it.
Spencer gasped and bucked hard against Derek's finger, his hands moving from their positions under the pillow to pull on his cock. Derek's free hand caught Spencer's wrist, pressed it to the bed next to his body until Spencer looked at him. “Hands under the pillow,” Derek reminded him. He waited to see if Spencer could comply.
For now he could, sliding his hands back under the pillow, gripping it hard enough to make his arms flex, and he nodded at Derek.
Derek smiled now, pleased that Spencer had that much control and was willing to give it over to him. His fingers had dried so he reached into the bedside table for lube, slicking up two fingers now.
“If we didn't-” Derek began, then stopped. Reality was not going to help the fantasy. He started again, sliding two fingers inside Spencer this time to distract him. “Wouldn't take long at all to get you ready for me, would it Spencer?” he asked. Spencer's head rocked back and forth on the pillow, whether in answer to his question or because of how the fingers felt as they stretched him Derek didn't know.
“Because as much as I love your brain, you're just as ruled by lust as the rest of us mere mortals,” Derek told him. “I could shut your big brain down by getting on my knees and sucking you off, or by pressing you into a wall and jerking you until you come.” Spencer whined at that, trying to force Derek's fingers deep. “Or by pressing inside you, fucking you,” he added, and watched Spencer's cock jerk. “I love to watch you come apart on me, Pretty Boy,” he said. “You look so gorgeous when you're hot and loose, on the edge and so close to coming.”
Derek fumbled one-handed to roll on a condom, to slick it up without spilling the lube all over the bed. His breath came faster as he positioned himself, pushed inside and watched Spencer's control shatter. Spencer's arms came out from under the pillow, one arm going to his cock and stripping off the binding ring, the other reaching up to grab Derek's shoulder, pull him down. Derek caught himself before he crushed Spencer, braced himself on his elbows as he felt Spencer's legs wrap around his hips, pulling him in.
He pressed deep into Spencer, heat and rippling muscles squeezing tight around him. Below him, Spencer arched up, capturing Derek's mouth with his, moaning and sighing as they kissed. Derek held still, waiting him out. Slowly, Spencer relaxed, finally falling back onto the bed with a sigh. He bit his lip, looked up at Derek with pupil-blown eyes. “Fuck me, Derek,” he said, his voice soft and scratchy.
They are the last words he spoke for several long, hot minutes as Derek pumped his hips, sliding into and out of Spencer's body. Spencer met him thrust for thrust, and words were the last thing on their minds.
Author: lovetheboys
Pairing: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Rating: NC-17 (Seriously!)
Warnings: Kinks ahoy!
1. Semi-public sex.
2. Sort of strip tease...
3. Cuddling, I guess...
4. dirty!sex.
5. Mild D/s play.
Author's Note: If anyone spots weird tense changes, I'd appreciate a note.
This is my first "# Things" fic, basically, “Four Things About Spencer that Surprised Derek and One that Didn't.”
...Okay, so it's basically five PWPs in one. Enjoy!
*****
1. Spencer cornered Derek in the restroom, came up behind him at the sink and palmed the front of his jeans.
Derek looked over his shoulder at Spencer, raised his eyebrows. “Here, pretty boy?”
“Fast,” Spencer said in his ear, his voice low. His hands didn't shake as he unzipped Derek's jeans, slipping his hand inside briefly before Derek turned around. “I want your hands,” he added before Derek claimed his mouth.
“Not that I'm complaining,” Derek said, his lips moving against Spencer's jaw as he slipped past layers of fabric to wrap his fingers around Spencer's cock. “What brought this on?”
“Mmm,” Spencer hummed, pressing his hips forward, his own fingers squeezing Derek's hardening length. “You're sexy behind the wheel,” he murmured, tilting his head forward to nip at Derek's shoulder through his shirt.
Derek laughed before catching his breath as Spencer gave a strong, slow pull. “Car chases turn you on, Spencer?” he asked.
“Adrenaline,” Spencer said.
“Adrenaline rushes are part of the job,” Derek reminded him, leaning back against the sink briefly. “You don't usually jump me after.”
Spencer's eyes fluttered closed as Derek thumbed the head of his cock, rubbing slowly. Derek smirked when Spencer's hips twitched, closer, as if he wanted to thrust but held himself back. He leaned forward and sucked on Spencer's lip briefly; couldn't mark him up in the bathroom right before wrap-up.
Much as he wanted to.
“Your control of the car was amazing,” Spencer said.
Derek's eyebrows flew up; that was a loaded statement. “You like it when I'm in control?” Derek asked, his voice going low as the implications flew around his brain. Not that they hadn't played a little along those lines before, but this was much more direct.
“Competency is a kink,” Spencer said, then gasped again, biting his lip. Derek knew they were past talking now. He tilted his hips forward until he pressed against Spencer, their cocks lining up.
Wrapping one hand in Spencer's hair and the other around their dicks, Derek took over the rhythm and brought Spencer's mouth down, sucking on his tongue as he worked efficiently to bring them both off.
He had the presence of mind to cup his palm over the heads of their cocks so they didn't make a huge mess they'd have to explain. Spencer gripped his shoulders for a few seconds as he panted through his orgasm, keeping himself upright.
Derek placed one last kiss on Spencer's lips before turning back to the sink to wash his hands. In the mirror he watched Spencer's long fingers work at tugging his clothes back into order. “You coming over tonight?” he asked, knowing their wrap-up here wouldn't take long; they'd be back home and doing paperwork for a few days.
“If you want me to,” Spencer said, still uncertain of his welcome after several months. Derek smiled warmly.
“Oh, I want you,” Derek said, drying off his hands. He put his own clothing back in order and slid his hand around Spencer's waist. “Never doubt that, pretty boy,” he added, squeezing and then releasing. For good measure he pinched lightly at Spencer's left cheek, grinning at the wide-eyed, slightly scandalized look he received in return.
2. With his clothes on, Spencer Reid seems gawky, awkward, even clumsy at times when his brain is whirling at a million miles a minute and not bothering to control his body.
With his clothes off, Spencer Reid is surprisingly graceful. It's like the extra weight of the clothes throws off his natural grace. Or possibly it's that when Derek has Spencer naked his brain is not exactly going around in circles trying to find the right answer and messing with the physical controls.
Now that he thinks about it, the grace actually starts once they're in private. Once the eyes of everyone else are gone, once it's only Spencer and Derek, more weight leaves Spencer's shoulders. He stands a little taller as he discards his sweater-vest. His hands fly gracefully as he speaks, making some point which Derek stopped listening to several minutes ago. When Spencer notices that Derek is no longer paying attention, he merely smiles and lets himself fall back on the couch, content with silence for the moment.
Derek invites himself into Spencer's personal space, sliding next to him on the couch, letting his hand trace up from Spencer's waist to his neck, fingers catching Spencer's jaw and bringing his mouth around.
The kisses start off slow; sucking gently on lips and tongues, playful, gentle nips and quiet sighs. Then Spencer moves, presses Derek back on the couch, straddles Derek and pauses above him. Derek's hands are loose around Spencer's back, his fingers splayed across the fabric. Spencer's hands frame the back of his head, tilt Derek's face up until they are grinning right into each other's faces. The kisses heat up, deeper, harder suction, now with some subtle hip motions added in on Spencer's part.
Spencer starts to sway from side to side, the rhythm prompted by whatever song is playing in his head. With his eidetic memory, he has many songs in his head, some that begin playing with only one word to prompt it. Derek will sometimes catch him tapping his fingers to the beat, but Spencer, for all his skills, can't sing a note so he will never even hum.
Derek's fingers grip Spencer's ass, following the beat Spencer has set. Then he pushes Spencer away, upward until their mouths are no longer connected. Spencer looks surprised, but scrambles to his feet when Derek moves to get up.
Derek shakes his head before Spencer can start to apologize or whatever he was about to start rambling about. He holds his hand out, begins to move his hips to the same beat they'd just abandoned, making the “come here” gesture with his fingers. Spencer doesn't dance; whenever they go to clubs, if anyone asks him, he blushes and stammers that he's a terrible dancer and thank you anyway.
But here, Spencer moves into Derek's embrace, one arm thrown over Derek's shoulder, the other around his waist. Instead of putting his hands on Spencer, Derek begins to unbutton his shirt. Spencer bites his lip when Derek pushes the shirt off his shoulders, slides his hands over skin no one else sees, no one else appreciates the way he does.
Color spreads across Spencer's cheeks when Derek's hands move towards his waistband, but Spencer doesn't flinch and doesn't trip when his pants fall to the floor. They just dance until he steps out of them, clad only in his boxers now. Without losing the beat, Spencer begins to undress Derek, lifting his shirt over his head.
While his hands are stretched up, Derek takes advantage of the access, leans down to suck on skin, make his way down to Spencer's nipples. Spencer cries out, one hand wrapping around Derek's head, fingers smoothing over the stubble there, encouraging the movement of Derek's mouth over his chest.
The groan Derek lets out then is half growl, and Spencer echoes his sound, bringing Derek's lips back to his. Soon Derek's pants are on the ground with Spencer's, and Spencer is gently leading them both, still swaying, back towards Derek's bedroom.
3. Derek is a touchy-feely guy. It had started as overcompensating for what happened to him, blotting out the memories with lots of casual touches that he controlled. But it took on a life of its own until he became the kind of guy who was comfortable with casual contact.
Spencer is pretty much the opposite.
While always discreet in the field, Derek is often surprised at the casual touches he gets that others don't. Spencer will let his hand overlap Derek's when handing over a cup of coffee. He'll casually touch Derek's shoulder when dropping files at his desk or sometimes even grab him to make a point.
It took him a while to realize how special these touches were, and that more special was the fact that Spencer didn't flinch when Derek touched him.
He didn't realize until after they started sleeping together that Spencer seemed to have relaxed his no-touch rule for Derek and Derek alone. After Spencer became confident of his welcome in Derek's bed, there seemed to be no stopping him.
After sex, Spencer will lie on top of Derek, plastered together with sweat and come. He sometimes falls asleep like that, happily leaving it to Derek to clean them up if he wanted to. Spencer is a power-cuddler in bed and in private, wrapping his long limbs around Derek, pressing his face into Derek's shoulder, chest, neck, wherever he happened to fall.
Out in the field, when he sees Spencer shuffle-step away from whoever is getting too close, he smiles to himself, knowing that if he were to come up behind Spencer, he would lean slightly backwards, towards Derek's heat. It felt like a gift he'd been given, and he intended to keep that gift to himself.
4. Spencer is a borderline germphobic. Derek knew this almost as soon as he met Spencer. He washes his hands four or five times a day, avoids being touched or touching, and always makes sure he has gloves for crime scenes.
So when Spencer turned out to like sex down and dirty, Derek was pleasantly shocked.
Derek first discovered this fact one night when he came home from teaching a self-defense class at Quantico. He was still overheated, covered in sweat, and hoped he could jump in the shower before Spencer realized he was home.
But before he'd gotten halfway down the hall to the bathroom, Spencer was next to him, his fingers already creeping under the wet hem of Derek's shirt. Derek laughed and twisted slightly away before he could control the movement. “I'll be out of the shower in a second, Spencer,” he said, still moving forward.
Spencer firmed his grip, the touch no longer tickling. “I like you like this. You smell,” Spencer paused to lean into Derek's neck and inhale. Derek considered taking umbrage at that. “Hot,” Spencer finished, and Derek's eyebrows shot up.
“You buy into the human pheromone theory?” he asked, not pushing Spencer away.
“Haven't read sufficient evidence to 'buy into' it or not,” he mumbled into the skin of Derek's shoulder. “I just like you when you smell more like you. Mornings, after a run, after a class, when you've been playing with Clooney...” He trailed off as he stripped the shirt off over Derek's head.
“Don't I smell like dog when I've been playing with Clooney?” Derek asked, then felt a little dizzy when Spencer went to his knees on the floor and tugged down his track pants.
Wordless now, Spencer just shook his head and began placing sucking, nipping kisses around Derek's belly and thighs, then worked his way down to Derek's cock which was beginning to show interest. Derek's fingers twined through Spencer's hair, combing through the strands briefly before gripping close to his scalp. Not hard, just enough to anchor himself in the real world before Spencer's mouth sent him into orbit.
And yes, he'd discovered that Spencer liked a touch of domination, but he didn't feel dominant right now; he felt like putty in Spencer's hands-mouth, really. Nothing wrong with the tables being reversed.
His head fell back, thunking against the wall lightly, his eyes rolling behind closed eyelids.
When the hot wet slipped off his cock, he looked down to find Spencer stripping off his shirts. Derek licked his lips as naked skin was revealed, started to get down on the floor with Spencer if that was what he wanted.
But Spencer stopped him, looking up at him with eyes slitted just a tad and not quite meeting his gaze. “I've heard about this one thing, and it's apparently a pretty common thing that people like, and despite the feminist critique of the subject I feel it sort of goes back to the whole marking/claiming fetish, not dissimilar to hickeys and bite marks on skin. Only more transitory. I want...” Spencer trailed off, and Derek raised his eyebrows, patient, his hands back on Spencer's head and stroking his hair gently. Like with all things, Spencer would eventually get around to what he wanted to say. “I want you to ejaculate on me,” Spencer finally blurted out.
Derek's eyes slammed shut and his hand went to the base of his cock to squeeze. “Damn, Spencer,” he gasped a few moments later after he'd controlled the urge to come. He opened his eyes, saw Spencer looking scared and bracing himself for rejection. “Oh, Pretty Boy, you only ever have to ask,” he said softly, bending down and bringing Spencer's mouth to his.
Spencer groaned into the kiss, the long fingers of one hand wrapping around Derek's cock, stroking him slowly as Derek straightened back up. He watched as Spencer jerked them both off, his hands keeping the same pace on himself and on Derek.
Derek felt himself getting closer, and took over stroking. Spencer took the opportunity to play with Derek's balls, leaning forward to lick and suck them, keeping his eyes open and on Derek's face the whole time. Waiting.
“Damn, Spencer,” he said again, his knees starting to shake.
Spencer sat in front of Derek, his hand stilled on his own cock. He waited, poised, watching Derek's hand moving, his mouth half-open, the tip of his tongue poking out to wet his lips.
It was too much for Derek, the shock and pleasure at the request, and he let himself go, watched his come cover Spencer's face, neck, chest. Watched as Spencer came as well, the tendons in his throat prominent as he threw his head back and groaned through his orgasm.
Derek dropped to his knees on the floor and pulled Spencer to him before his lover was quite done. A few drops of his come landed on Derek's abdomen as they kissed, and Derek smiled. “Come on, Pretty Boy,” he said, pulling back to suck on Spencer's lip. “Come take a shower with me.”
5. Spencer talked a lot. He felt better, more in control of a situation when he could talk through it, make sense of it by analyzing it to death.
No surprise then, that Spencer could be pretty verbal in bed. It wasn't even sexy all the time; often it was statistics. Never anything bad, just interesting factoids about what the American public claims they like in the bedroom, the most popular lubricants, sex toys, videos. Derek wondered once where Spencer got his information, and only gets a lecture on the value of information in response.
It was also not so shocking that when Spencer felt like giving up control he tried not to speak. Derek couldn't gag him, or tie him up. But he told Spencer to be quiet, made him suck on his fingers, kissed him to keep him from speaking.
Derek was also good with his words, though less free with them than Spencer was-'why use three when thirty-five will do'? seemed to be Spencer's motto-but that doesn't mean he uses them to less effect.
“Oh Spencer,” Derek sighed, kissing Spencer's belly, dragging the edges of his teeth lightly over the skin. “The things I want to do to you.” He surveyed the body in front of him; stretched out in his bed, one leg bent and the other splayed out, his hands and wrists buried in the pillows under his head. Derek sat next to him, arms stretched out, almost spanning the length of Spencer's body.
Spencer's eyes were wide but his lips stayed wrapped around two of Derek's fingers, just like he'd ordered. “Don't look so surprised,” Derek said. “I love it when you're all spread out for me, waiting to see what I can do to you, what I will do to you.” His hand trailed down to Spencer's crotch where there was a ring snug around the base of Spencer's cock. “How long can you wait, Spencer, before you start begging to come?”
Spencer blushed and sucked hard on Derek's middle finger, nipping gently at the skin before licking the little hurt away. Derek bit back a groan at the feelings.
“You are so hot, Spencer,” he said, moving to his lover's nipples and biting one, then the other. Spencer moaned low and arched into Derek's mouth, and Derek spent a few more moments sucking and licking at Spencer's nipples. “If I let it, it'll drive me crazy in the field, watching you move around so covered up when I know exactly what is under all that fabric. How you most likely have a few bite marks here,” Derek traces Spencer's collarbone lightly. “Or here,” he adds, letting his finger slip behind Spencer's body and tracing the edge of his shoulder blade. “Or here,” he says one more time, tracing his hand down Spencer's inner thigh where Derek liked to tease him.
He didn't touch Spencer's cock, which lay heavy against his belly, twitching occasionally with Spencer's interest.
“And when you bend over a desk, looking at pictures or studying a map,” Derek made tsking sounds. “It's hard to control myself sometimes, Pretty Boy.” He shifted Spencer's legs, spreading them and making a place for himself. “It's hard not to come up behind you, rub against you and see how fast you could be ready for me.”
Spencer groaned once at his words, and then again when Derek's fingers slipped from his mouth. “Derek, please,” he said, not desperate yet, just wanting to talk.
“Shh. Time to control that mouth of yours, Spencer,” he said gently. Spencer closed his lips, pursing them together. Derek rewarded that by bending and licking a torturous stroke from his balls to the head of his cock. Spencer's mouth opened, but he only gasped and whimpered slightly.
Derek slid his wet fingers down behind Spencer's balls, teased them around Spencer's opening until Spencer spread his legs wider for him, surrendered to him of his own volition.
“Wouldn't take long, would it?” he asked, sliding one finger inside and reveling in the way Spencer's hips moved towards him, begging without words for more. “Wouldn't take long at all for you to be ready for me.” Spencer shook his head, answering the rhetorical question, and Derek knew his brain was still too engaged, so he sought out Spencer's prostate and rubbed it.
Spencer gasped and bucked hard against Derek's finger, his hands moving from their positions under the pillow to pull on his cock. Derek's free hand caught Spencer's wrist, pressed it to the bed next to his body until Spencer looked at him. “Hands under the pillow,” Derek reminded him. He waited to see if Spencer could comply.
For now he could, sliding his hands back under the pillow, gripping it hard enough to make his arms flex, and he nodded at Derek.
Derek smiled now, pleased that Spencer had that much control and was willing to give it over to him. His fingers had dried so he reached into the bedside table for lube, slicking up two fingers now.
“If we didn't-” Derek began, then stopped. Reality was not going to help the fantasy. He started again, sliding two fingers inside Spencer this time to distract him. “Wouldn't take long at all to get you ready for me, would it Spencer?” he asked. Spencer's head rocked back and forth on the pillow, whether in answer to his question or because of how the fingers felt as they stretched him Derek didn't know.
“Because as much as I love your brain, you're just as ruled by lust as the rest of us mere mortals,” Derek told him. “I could shut your big brain down by getting on my knees and sucking you off, or by pressing you into a wall and jerking you until you come.” Spencer whined at that, trying to force Derek's fingers deep. “Or by pressing inside you, fucking you,” he added, and watched Spencer's cock jerk. “I love to watch you come apart on me, Pretty Boy,” he said. “You look so gorgeous when you're hot and loose, on the edge and so close to coming.”
Derek fumbled one-handed to roll on a condom, to slick it up without spilling the lube all over the bed. His breath came faster as he positioned himself, pushed inside and watched Spencer's control shatter. Spencer's arms came out from under the pillow, one arm going to his cock and stripping off the binding ring, the other reaching up to grab Derek's shoulder, pull him down. Derek caught himself before he crushed Spencer, braced himself on his elbows as he felt Spencer's legs wrap around his hips, pulling him in.
He pressed deep into Spencer, heat and rippling muscles squeezing tight around him. Below him, Spencer arched up, capturing Derek's mouth with his, moaning and sighing as they kissed. Derek held still, waiting him out. Slowly, Spencer relaxed, finally falling back onto the bed with a sigh. He bit his lip, looked up at Derek with pupil-blown eyes. “Fuck me, Derek,” he said, his voice soft and scratchy.
They are the last words he spoke for several long, hot minutes as Derek pumped his hips, sliding into and out of Spencer's body. Spencer met him thrust for thrust, and words were the last thing on their minds.