FIC: Irresistable - Part Three
Title: Irresistable - Part Three
Author: nebula99
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: FRAO/NC-17
Type: Slash
Pairing: Reid/The BAU
Summary: "Tell me, Aaron Hotchner, do you believe in faeries?"
Prompt: 012 Fantasy AU (urban) for wtf27 and Superhuman for 10_cliche_fics
Author’s Note: I owe a huge debt of gratitude to slash_girl for helping with this, beta reading it and also for cheering me up immensely during emo-moments. This is for you.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
I believe that sex is a beautiful thing between two people. Between five, it's fantastic.
Woody Allen
A promiscuous person is a person getting more sex than you are.
Victor Lownes
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Reid spent the entire journey to Hotch’s house fretting about what to say to him. What do you say when you arrive on somebody’s doorstep in the middle of the night after your father has erased their memory? It worried him that he didn’t know exactly what had been removed and what remained.
In the end, he said very little. Hotch opened the door with bleary eyes and bed-mussed hair and Reid had no option but to kiss him.
Hotch returned the kiss and they barely made it to the stairs before Reid had stripped off most of his clothes. The sex was explosive and noisy and although his pale skin would bear bruises for some time afterwards, he considered it a price worth paying.
They eventually made it to the bedroom and Reid mumbled an apology for turning up so late as he crawled under the covers into Hotch’s arms. Hotch smiled indulgently and kissed him on the end of the nose, saying, “I’m just glad you’re here.”
Drifting off to sleep with Hotch’s arm draped over him, Reid experienced a moment of gratitude for his father’s interference. Ignoring thoughts of the paternal sniggering that would no doubt greet this admission, Reid allowed a smile to settle on his lips. Things were working out well.
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Having sex with the same person again and again was a novel experience for Reid. And having sex with Aaron Hotchner again and again was turning out to be an excellent use of his free time.
Three blissful weeks had passed before Reid casually mentioned that he would need to take a couple of days off to attend a family wedding. Hotch was very understanding, especially when Reid explained that it wasn’t a close relative, but that he was obliged to attend. He omitted the obligation to take a date.
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Reid picked Dewi as his date mainly because he looked nothing like Hotch. He had white blond hair and sharp features, with eyebrows that were almost permanently arched. Reid had met him before and he was at least pleasant enough. They made a striking couple; Reid wearing a forest green three piece suit that his father had given him, while Dewi was dressed in a crimson sherwani and black jodhpurs. Flamboyance was the order of the day.
Sitting in the great hall as the post-ceremony celebrations got underway, Reid remembered how much he used to dread the annual visits with his father when he was a child. He had hated leaving his mother behind to spend time with a group of faeries that either ignored him, or teased him mercilessly.
And yet, he was always reluctant to leave. The magic of Annwn was so compelling that he understood those humans who were desperate to find a way in, or who, having been there, longed to return. The human world seemed so muted in comparison.
While he knew that so much of what he could enjoy here was artificial and merely surface, he still felt the pull of the ancient power that grew in the soil, charged through the rivers and twinkled in the air.
The magic was what got him to his feet. He would never have considered dancing back home; he knew that to take to the dance floor would be akin to recreating the famous scene where Bambi attempts ice-skating. Nobody needed to see that.
However, slightly drunk on wine the colour of jewels and with the air full of music, Reid let Dewi pull him out of his seat and onto the floor. And the Faerie enchantments did their work. It didn’t matter that he had no rhythm or confidence - here, if nowhere else, he could dance.
He grinned as Dewi bowed deeply before him, returning the bow with an exaggerated flourish. Then Dewi took his hand and they began to keep step with the rest of the crowd.
Part of the charm was the music. Various folk artists had tried to recreate the sound of Annwn and although many of them came close, no earthly musician had got it quite right. It was more than the instruments, more than the players - the notes combined with the enchantment of the air to create a sound that was hypnotic, captivating. Even the most ungraceful could join the multi-coloured mass of figures on the dance floor and Reid allowed the music to take over - dipping, clapping and twirling along with the rest of the crowd.
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Both of them breathless, Reid let Dewi pull him into an alcove off the seemingly endless corridor. The combination of wine and dancing had created a pleasing buzz and Reid let his head fall back onto the stone wall, Dewi holding onto his waist.
He felt Dewi move closer, pushing his body against him and starting to pull his shirt out of his pants. Reid shook his head slowly, gasping, “No,” as Dewi’s cold fingers ran across his stomach.
Dewi’s response was to lean in and kiss his neck. Feeling his cock swelling at the touch, Reid groaned and made a half hearted attempt to wriggle away. He felt Dewi laugh into his neck, before stroking one hand over his crotch.
“I have a boyfriend,” whispered Reid. “I’m dating a human - I can’t do this.”
Dewi smirked at him. “Is he here?” he asked.
Reid shook his head and tried hard not to respond to the hand that was caressing his erection through his pants.
“Then what’s your problem?” shrugged Dewi. “What happens in Faerie, stays in Faerie.” He reached up inside Reid’s shirt and pulled gently on his nipple, laughing softly at Reid’s responsive groan. “Besides, I know you’re a total whore. Your reputation precedes you - Caoimhin, son of Dubhlainn.”
Reid processed this for a moment and tried to overrule his groin. But Dewi’s touch was electrifying and he couldn’t help but to respond. He pushed his hips forwards into Dewi’s hand and then moved to kiss him.
The kiss began tentatively, but quickly deepened and Reid was soon lost in the moment, thinking of nothing but the hands on his body and the tongue probing his mouth.
Gradually, he became aware of a vibrating sensation at his hip bone. Dewi pulled back and looked at him with amused excitement. “Oooh,” he smirked. “You brought toys? To a wedding?”
Puzzled, Reid reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. “It’s not a vibrator,” he sighed as it buzzed in his hand. “It’s my phone.”
He flipped it open to see Hotch’s caller ID and shook his head in bemusement. There were parts of Quantico where he couldn’t get cell phone service and yet Hotch had managed to call him in a different dimension. He turned his head away from Dewi and answered the call.
“Hi Hotch,” he said brightly.
“Reid,” sighed Hotch. “I am so sorry to bother you while you’re on vacation, but I need to ask you a big favour. Gideon is lecturing in Europe this week and now Morgan has got food poisoning. I don’t know where this wedding is, but if you are anywhere near DC, is there a chance you could come in? We have four bodies already and we need to get a handle on this.”
Smiling with relief at the rescue, Reid replied, “It’s no problem. Have Garcia text me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thanks,” answered Hotch. “I appreciate it.” Then he hung up.
Reid managed to flip his cell shut before Dewi hooked a hand round the back of his neck and pulled him closer for a kiss. Reid enjoyed the sensation for a moment and then moved his face reluctantly away, shaking his head.
“I have to go,” he said, shoving his cell back into his pocket.
Dewi slid a hand over Reid’s ass. “What for?” he drawled.
Reid sighed. His date was nothing if not persistent. “There's a serial killer in Washington,” he replied.
Dewi shrugged. “What do you care?”
“It’s my job!” retorted Reid.
Dewi frowned at him. “So let this other guy do the killing for a bit then. It saves you some work.” He pushed his hips forward, grinding his erection against Reid’s.
“No,” said Reid patiently. “I’m not employed as a serial killer. I work for the FBI catching the bad guys.” He marvelled sometimes at how ignorant of the human world some faeries could be.
Dewi pouted. “But I’m here as your date,” he pointed out. “Are you just going to leave me like this?”
“I’m sorry,” replied Reid, stroking his cheek gently. “But I really do have to go back.”
There was a sigh and then Dewi nodded. “Okay,” he said. “But be careful of your father.” He wagged a finger at Reid. “When he finds out you’ve left early - you are going to be in deep shit.”
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Two weeks after the wedding, Reid finally invited Hotch back to his apartment. The case they had just finished had gotten them working at a relentless pace, with no time for any contact more than lingering looks and suggestive text messages. The drive to Hotch’s house was going to be torture for both of them and so Reid suggested his place as it was nearer.
Once inside, Reid hurried to make sure he had clean sheets and sent Hotch to make himself comfortable.
Hotch strolled into the living room, smiling to himself. He had never seen Reid in his natural habitat before and was delighting in discovering this side to him.
He was not expecting to see someone standing in the living room, peering at a bookshelf with hands clasped behind his back. Reid had not mentioned a room mate. Hotch started to draw his gun.
“There’s no need for that,” said the man without turning round. “I’m not a threat.” His voice was deep and melodic.
Hotch slowly raised his gun. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
The man turned to face Hotch and smiled at him. “I could ask you the same thing.” he replied. “But I already know the answer.” His smile widened and he tilted his head slightly to one side.
The man was tall and very handsome, with dark hair falling in loose curls nearly to his shoulders. He was dressed in a red silk shirt with a black jacket and what appeared to be a black leather skirt with black knee length boots that laced up the front. He held out a hand towards Hotch. “Please holster your weapon,” he said. “Those things can make a terrible mess.”
Hotch held the gun steady. “Who are you?” he growled. Then he heard Reid enter the room and gasp. Without turning round, he said warningly, “Spencer - get the phone and call for back-up.”
The man’s brow furrowed and he made a beckoning motion with his fingers. Hotch’s gun flew from his grasp and the man caught it deftly. “Have you forgotten your manners, Caoimhin?” said the man, addressing Reid.
Stunned, Hotch reached for his ankle holster. A hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Hotch,” said Reid softly. “It’s okay.” He moved closer, standing next to Hotch and gesturing reluctantly towards the man standing in his living room. “Hotch - this is my father.”
The man gave a flourish and bowed. Then he held his hand out to Hotch. “Dubhlainn, son of Idris, American ambassador of the Daoine Sidhe.” He smiled as Hotch shook his hand automatically. “Enchanted.”
“Aaron Hotchner,” said Hotch in disbelief. He frowned at Reid. “Your father?”
Reid nodded and reddened as he answered. “William Reid is my step-father. This is . . . um . . . my real father.”
Hotch gaped at the man who had placed his gun gently on the bookshelf. “How did you get in here?” he asked. “And how did you take my gun?” He glanced at Reid who was hugging himself nervously. He didn’t look too comfortable having his father here.
Dubhlainn reached out and cupped Reid’s chin. “Hospitality matters, Caoimhin,” he said smoothly. “I think a drink is in order. Something smoky, yet sweet - Lagavulin I think?”
Reid nodded and hurried to the kitchen. Hotch tried hard not to stare at Reid’s father but it was difficult, particularly with how he was dressed.
Dubhlainn had noticed Hotch’s interest and smirked at him, smoothing his hands down the soft leather hanging from his waist. “It’s a kilt,” he informed Hotch. “Jean Paul Gaultier made it especially for me. Do you like it?”
Hotch shrugged. “It’s . . . um . . . very unusual.”
Dubhlainn gave a soft laugh. “And surprisingly practical.” He looked up as Reid came back into the room carrying a bottle and three glasses. “Ahh, Caoimhin, excellent.”
Hotch rubbed at his forehead, trying to understand what was going on and why Reid’s father was calling him a different name.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” he started, “But how did you get in here and . . . and . . . what is going on?”
Dubhlainn chuckled and gestured towards the couch. “Please sit down,” he said and Hotch obeyed. Then Dubhlainn held out his hands, palms upwards and said, “Tell me, Aaron Hotchner, do you believe in faeries?” Smirking at Hotch’s puzzled scowl he went on, ”And don’t worry, my continued existence is not dependent on you giving the correct answer.”
Hotch swallowed nervously. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Dubhlainn tilted his head. “Faeries -The Fair Folk - Elves - The Daoine Sidhe. Are we something you believe in?” he asked in a lilting tone.
“I’ve never given it much thought,” replied Hotch, honestly. “I guess not. At least, I’ve never met any.”
Dubhlainn nodded and poured the drinks. “Understandable - many of us avoid your world. Some, however,” he said, indicating Reid, “Choose to live here.” He held up a tumbler of whisky. “It’s a single malt - how do you take it?”
“With a little water, please,” replied Hotch, still trying to process what this man was telling him. Reid was no help, standing with his arms folded and scowling at his father like a sulky teenager.
A knowing look spread across Dubhlainn’s face and with a rapid movement of his fingers, he produced a small jug from nowhere and poured some water into Hotch’s glass. “I am so glad to see that you understand how to drink whisky properly.” He handed the glass to Hotch. “If you had asked for ice or a mixer, I would have had to put an end to your relationship with my son.” He said this without laughing and Hotch wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.
Reid spoke with barely contained anger, almost snatching his glass out of his father’s hand. “What are you doing here?”
His father tutted. “Really, Caoimhin - I am just explaining your family to your lover - being as you obviously haven’t taken the trouble.”
“Spencer” snapped Reid. “Don’t call me that name here.”
Dubhlainn turned to Hotch with a shrug. “Such a beautiful and ancient name and yet he casts it aside. But he gets his temper from his mother. Have you met Diana?”
Hotch swallowed a mouthful of whisky and felt it warm his throat. “Briefly,” he replied.
“She was quite something when she was young,” said Dubhlainn with a sigh. “We had a lot of fun.”
“Is that what you call it?” interrupted Reid. “What about me?”
Putting a hand up to shush him, Dubhlainn moved to sit next to Hotch on the couch. “Diana wanted to keep her son with her and I reluctantly agreed. There was a potential step-father on the scene and so my part-faery boy grew up here.” He paused. “Which explains a lot.”
Hotch frowned at him. “So you are telling me that you are both faeries?” He drained his glass with a shudder and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You must understand that I’m finding this hard to take in.” If he hadn’t seen Dubhlainn remove his gun and then produce a water jug out of nowhere, he would have thought the poor man to be as deluded as Diana Reid.
“Of course,” nodded Dubhlainn. “His heritage could be easily misunderstood, which is why it would have been better for Caoimhin to have been brought up with me.”
Reid slammed his hand down on the arm of his chair. “It’s Spencer!” he cried. “You are doing that on purpose.”
Dubhlainn ignored him and moved closer to Hotch, placing a hand on his knee. “Diana did her best,” he purred, “And while he has her eyes, his bone structure is pure Fae. He is quite lovely, don’t you agree?”
Hotch nodded, feeling suddenly very warm. Reid’s father was a very attractive man and his hand was edging up Hotch’s thigh.
His voice dropped and Dubhlainn continued. “And I would be very surprised if he was anything but a very sensuous companion in bed?”
Hotch swallowed hard, aware that Dubhlainn was gently massaging his upper thigh and yet unable to move away.
“You have beautiful eyes,” murmured Dubhlainn. “And my son tells me you are a great kisser. More whisky?”
“Dad!” hissed Reid. “Stop it.”
Dubhlainn waved his hand and the bottle refilled their glasses as Hotch looked on with amazement. “His mother didn’t have him circumcised, on my advice, and I hope you are both enjoying the benefits of that.”
“Please don’t talk about this,” groaned Reid, putting his head in his hands. “I am in the room.”
Hotch smiled at Dubhlainn. If he didn’t know any better he could have sworn that the faery was flirting with him. “I think it enhances things for him,” he replied with a smile, unsure why he was even answering the question. “For me too.” Why on earth was he discussing this with Reid’s father?
Dubhlainn nodded approvingly. “Good, good,” he said, “And whilst we know size isn’t everything, let me assure you that he does take after me.”
Reid’s voice cut through the warm sexy haze Hotch appeared to be drifting in. “Stop talking about my penis,” he pleaded.
Dubhlainn looked genuinely surprised as he turned to him. “This is your lover,” he said, “Why wouldn’t he be interested in your penis?”
Hotch smirked. “It’s very nice,” he said, before he could stop himself. “I do like it.”
Reid jumped to his feet. “Right, that’s enough,” he said, pointing to the door. “Go home. I don’t need you interfering in my life, turning up here without an invitation, and pawing my boyfriend while you both discuss my cock. It’s not fair!”
“Quiet please,” warned Dubhlainn. “I’m just getting to know him.”
“Getting to know him?” spluttered Reid. “By manoeuvring your tongue down his throat? Leave my boyfriend alone. I’m sick of you just sticking your-”
Dubhlainn scowled and then gestured towards Reid, cutting him off mid-sentence. The young man looked stunned and put his fingers to his lips, before staring wide eyed at his father.
“Now sit down,” commanded Dubhlainn. “I did warn you to be quiet.”
Reid slumped down into his chair, silenced. Dubhlainn chuckled at Hotch’s shocked expression. “Come now, Aaron, you must have wished you could do that sometimes.” He leaned forwards and reassured him. “It’s temporary - he’ll get his voice back when you and I have finished talking.” He stroked a finger down Hotch’s cheek.
Reid kicked hard at his chair and slammed his fist down on the upholstery. Dubhlainn’s eyes narrowed at him. “Do I need to add an immobilisation charm? No? Well stop the drama then.”
He turned back to Hotch. “You’ll have to forgive my son. He didn’t really have an adolescence, so he tends to act out now and again.”
“How did you . . . ?” Hotch’s voice trailed off. “Don’t you need a wand or something?”
Dubhlainn rolled his eyes dramatically. “J K Rowling has a lot to answer for,” he sighed. “Idiot woman. My power comes from within - I don’t need to wave a stick of wood around - and neither does Caoimhin - sorry, Spencer.”
“You do magic?” asked Hotch, looking startled. “Real magical magic?”
Still scowling at his father, Reid shrugged and then nodded.
“His powers are limited firstly because he insists on living as a human and secondly because he won’t apply himself.” said Dubhlainn sharply. “Our children can be such a joy and such a source of frustration, don’t you agree?”
Frowning, Hotch replied, “I guess so. My son is very young, so . . .”
“But you appreciate the importance of family,” continued Dubhlainn in a velvet voice, placing his hand back on Hotch’s thigh. “And Spencer’s family ask so little of him, considering.”
Hotch stole a glance at Reid, who had sat back in the chair, arms folded and glaring at them both. Hotch knew he shouldn’t be responding to Dubhlainn like this, but he just couldn’t help it. He reached up and loosened his tie.
Dubhlainn went on. “Which is why there was so much upset at Spencer walking out of his brother’s wedding without a word to anybody. I had a lot of ruffled feathers to smooth over.”
Hotch frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I only asked him to come to work because we really needed him.” He glanced at Reid who was still scowling. “I didn’t know he had a brother.”
Dubhlainn nodded. “Yes, he has two half-brothers. Ruairdrhi, who was getting married, is a model. He was on the cover for last month’s Italian Vogue.” He smiled fondly. “Tristan is a musician. We are very proud of them both.”
Hotch noticed Reid sigh silently and push his hair crossly off his face. “Spencer does important work as well. He is a wonderful profiler.”
Dubhlainn’s fingers massaged Hotch’s inner thigh, creeping closer to his crotch. “Of course he has a wonderful profile,” he said, his voice like honey, “He is part faery.”
Fighting the attraction, Hotch placed a hand over Dubhlainn’s. “Not that sort of profile. He helps us to understand and therefore catch the people we are looking for. You should be proud of him too.”
Dubhlainn shrugged dismissively. “Humans chasing humans who can’t stop hurting other humans is of very little interest.”
“To you perhaps,” said Hotch angrily. “But Spencer’s work matters. He deserves to matter to his parents.”
Dubhlainn snickered. “My, my,” he said softly, “You’ve got it bad for him, haven’t you?” He sat up and his voice sharpened. “He is my kin and of course he matters. However, he behaved extremely badly at Ruairdrhi’s wedding and he has to apologise. I don’t think you understand how serious this is.”
“Well let him apologise to you then,” shrugged Hotch. “I’m sure he didn’t upset anybody intentionally.”
Shaking his head, Dubhlainn replied, “He made a promise and he broke it. And for that, he needs to make amends. I suggest you manage without him for a few days while he returns to Faerie and spends some time with his family.”
Seeing Reid kick the chair in fury, Hotch hesitated. “But what if he doesn’t want to?”
Dubhlainn leaned closer to Hotch. “He doesn’t have a choice. He comes willingly or he will be bound and taken there.” He paused. “Willingly is always preferable.”
Reluctantly, Hotch nodded. There was an edge to Dubhlainn’s voice and it unsettled him. “I guess he will have to go then. What will he do there?”
Dubhlainn smiled and stroked Hotch’s cheek. “His swordsmanship is shocking, so he can practise with an expert.”
“Why does he need to be able to use a sword?” frowned Hotch.
“Every cultured faery should be able to ride a horse and fight with a sword,” said Dubhlainn airily. “It’s a dangerous world out there and these skills could be vital.”
Hotch wanted to ask more, but the warning look in Dubhlainn’s eyes stopped him.
Then the faery stood up and walked over to Reid. “Always a pleasure, a chuisle,” he said smoothly, patting him on the head. Reid glared back in response and Dubhlainn smothered a laugh. Then he turned back to Hotch, murmuring. “He looks so cute when he does that.”
Hotch stood up and held out his hand. Dubhlainn took it and bowed low, planting a kiss on the back of it. “It was delightful to meet you, Aaron Hotchner of the FBI.” He stood back upright and whispered in Hotch’s ear. “I will leave the silencing charm until morning. Enjoy.”
Then he turned sharply on his heel and vanished, leaving Hotch staring at the space where he had been. What the hell had just happened?
Hotch was startled out of his thoughts by Reid stalking out of the room and beginning to get ready for bed, extremely noisily, banging and slamming doors. Following him into the bathroom, Hotch leaned on the door frame and watched Reid brush his teeth and then spit vigorously into the sink. He waited while his lover washed and dried his face and then pulled a brush crossly through his hair.
Reid made to push past him but Hotch caught hold of his shoulders and stopped him. “Hey,” he said softly, “I know you’re upset, but it will be gone by morning. There are hundreds of questions I want to ask you and I’m sure you’ve got plenty to say to me, but for tonight let’s just be together.”
Reid scowled through his hair at Hotch and then his shoulders dropped in silent acceptance. He nodded.
Hotch pulled him into an embrace. “I’m glad you stayed in this world,” he murmured. “I would never have met you otherwise. And don’t worry about your father - I don't want him.”
Hotch tilted his head and kissed Reid gently on the lips. “Now show me your bedroom,” he growled.
He followed his lover into the bedroom and they tumbled onto the bed. Reid kissed him with urgency, his hips bucking underneath Hotch’s weight. The only sounds Hotch could hear as they kissed and touched each other were his own and he became conscious of the noises of his arousal in the quiet of Reid’s bedroom. His groans and growls were amplified in contrast to Reid’s silence and Hotch felt almost primal in his lust.
“I want to fuck you,” whispered Hotch, his request filling the room.
Reid nodded at him and scooted up the bed, pulling open his nightstand drawer and rummaging. He removed a condom and lube and slammed them into Hotch’s hand.
Hotch chuckled at his eagerness and bent his head to tease his lover’s nipple for a moment before starting to prepare them both for sex.
Their lovemaking had been so noisy before - moans, whimpers, whispered half-phrases, yells and keening cries. Hotch was now left to make the noise for both of them and his moan as he pushed into his lover seemed to echo around the darkened walls.
He had usually taken his cues from his lover’s sounds but with Reid now silenced, Hotch focussed on his body. He noted Reid’s chest rising and falling rapidly but with no breath sounds tumbling out of his mouth. He felt him twist and writhe beneath him, his movements taking on a frantic jerkiness.
Hotch thrust harder into him as Reid’s grip tightened on his shoulders. Hotch moved a hand to fist the young man’s cock and his hips surged upwards in response. The room was buzzing with a soundtrack of sweat soaked bodies colliding and sliding together and Hotch’s moans.
He was close and he guessed Reid was too. Reid began to slam one fist against the mattress, beating out the rhythm of his orgasm as his cock jerked and he came all over Hotch’s hand. Hotch groaned loudly, thrusting and coming deep inside his lover’s body as Reid still pounded the bed.
And when they could both move again, Hotch cleaned them up and took Reid in his arms, kissing him all over his face. He still couldn’t quite believe the events of this evening and knew that there would be so much to discuss the next day when Reid could speak again. However, he was going to enjoy the silence for now as they both drifted into sleep.
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No man is responsible for his father. That was entirely his mother’s affair.
Margaret Turnbull
TBC
Part Four
Author: nebula99
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: FRAO/NC-17
Type: Slash
Pairing: Reid/The BAU
Summary: "Tell me, Aaron Hotchner, do you believe in faeries?"
Prompt: 012 Fantasy AU (urban) for wtf27 and Superhuman for 10_cliche_fics
Author’s Note: I owe a huge debt of gratitude to slash_girl for helping with this, beta reading it and also for cheering me up immensely during emo-moments. This is for you.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
I believe that sex is a beautiful thing between two people. Between five, it's fantastic.
Woody Allen
A promiscuous person is a person getting more sex than you are.
Victor Lownes
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Reid spent the entire journey to Hotch’s house fretting about what to say to him. What do you say when you arrive on somebody’s doorstep in the middle of the night after your father has erased their memory? It worried him that he didn’t know exactly what had been removed and what remained.
In the end, he said very little. Hotch opened the door with bleary eyes and bed-mussed hair and Reid had no option but to kiss him.
Hotch returned the kiss and they barely made it to the stairs before Reid had stripped off most of his clothes. The sex was explosive and noisy and although his pale skin would bear bruises for some time afterwards, he considered it a price worth paying.
They eventually made it to the bedroom and Reid mumbled an apology for turning up so late as he crawled under the covers into Hotch’s arms. Hotch smiled indulgently and kissed him on the end of the nose, saying, “I’m just glad you’re here.”
Drifting off to sleep with Hotch’s arm draped over him, Reid experienced a moment of gratitude for his father’s interference. Ignoring thoughts of the paternal sniggering that would no doubt greet this admission, Reid allowed a smile to settle on his lips. Things were working out well.
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Having sex with the same person again and again was a novel experience for Reid. And having sex with Aaron Hotchner again and again was turning out to be an excellent use of his free time.
Three blissful weeks had passed before Reid casually mentioned that he would need to take a couple of days off to attend a family wedding. Hotch was very understanding, especially when Reid explained that it wasn’t a close relative, but that he was obliged to attend. He omitted the obligation to take a date.
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Reid picked Dewi as his date mainly because he looked nothing like Hotch. He had white blond hair and sharp features, with eyebrows that were almost permanently arched. Reid had met him before and he was at least pleasant enough. They made a striking couple; Reid wearing a forest green three piece suit that his father had given him, while Dewi was dressed in a crimson sherwani and black jodhpurs. Flamboyance was the order of the day.
Sitting in the great hall as the post-ceremony celebrations got underway, Reid remembered how much he used to dread the annual visits with his father when he was a child. He had hated leaving his mother behind to spend time with a group of faeries that either ignored him, or teased him mercilessly.
And yet, he was always reluctant to leave. The magic of Annwn was so compelling that he understood those humans who were desperate to find a way in, or who, having been there, longed to return. The human world seemed so muted in comparison.
While he knew that so much of what he could enjoy here was artificial and merely surface, he still felt the pull of the ancient power that grew in the soil, charged through the rivers and twinkled in the air.
The magic was what got him to his feet. He would never have considered dancing back home; he knew that to take to the dance floor would be akin to recreating the famous scene where Bambi attempts ice-skating. Nobody needed to see that.
However, slightly drunk on wine the colour of jewels and with the air full of music, Reid let Dewi pull him out of his seat and onto the floor. And the Faerie enchantments did their work. It didn’t matter that he had no rhythm or confidence - here, if nowhere else, he could dance.
He grinned as Dewi bowed deeply before him, returning the bow with an exaggerated flourish. Then Dewi took his hand and they began to keep step with the rest of the crowd.
Part of the charm was the music. Various folk artists had tried to recreate the sound of Annwn and although many of them came close, no earthly musician had got it quite right. It was more than the instruments, more than the players - the notes combined with the enchantment of the air to create a sound that was hypnotic, captivating. Even the most ungraceful could join the multi-coloured mass of figures on the dance floor and Reid allowed the music to take over - dipping, clapping and twirling along with the rest of the crowd.
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Both of them breathless, Reid let Dewi pull him into an alcove off the seemingly endless corridor. The combination of wine and dancing had created a pleasing buzz and Reid let his head fall back onto the stone wall, Dewi holding onto his waist.
He felt Dewi move closer, pushing his body against him and starting to pull his shirt out of his pants. Reid shook his head slowly, gasping, “No,” as Dewi’s cold fingers ran across his stomach.
Dewi’s response was to lean in and kiss his neck. Feeling his cock swelling at the touch, Reid groaned and made a half hearted attempt to wriggle away. He felt Dewi laugh into his neck, before stroking one hand over his crotch.
“I have a boyfriend,” whispered Reid. “I’m dating a human - I can’t do this.”
Dewi smirked at him. “Is he here?” he asked.
Reid shook his head and tried hard not to respond to the hand that was caressing his erection through his pants.
“Then what’s your problem?” shrugged Dewi. “What happens in Faerie, stays in Faerie.” He reached up inside Reid’s shirt and pulled gently on his nipple, laughing softly at Reid’s responsive groan. “Besides, I know you’re a total whore. Your reputation precedes you - Caoimhin, son of Dubhlainn.”
Reid processed this for a moment and tried to overrule his groin. But Dewi’s touch was electrifying and he couldn’t help but to respond. He pushed his hips forwards into Dewi’s hand and then moved to kiss him.
The kiss began tentatively, but quickly deepened and Reid was soon lost in the moment, thinking of nothing but the hands on his body and the tongue probing his mouth.
Gradually, he became aware of a vibrating sensation at his hip bone. Dewi pulled back and looked at him with amused excitement. “Oooh,” he smirked. “You brought toys? To a wedding?”
Puzzled, Reid reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. “It’s not a vibrator,” he sighed as it buzzed in his hand. “It’s my phone.”
He flipped it open to see Hotch’s caller ID and shook his head in bemusement. There were parts of Quantico where he couldn’t get cell phone service and yet Hotch had managed to call him in a different dimension. He turned his head away from Dewi and answered the call.
“Hi Hotch,” he said brightly.
“Reid,” sighed Hotch. “I am so sorry to bother you while you’re on vacation, but I need to ask you a big favour. Gideon is lecturing in Europe this week and now Morgan has got food poisoning. I don’t know where this wedding is, but if you are anywhere near DC, is there a chance you could come in? We have four bodies already and we need to get a handle on this.”
Smiling with relief at the rescue, Reid replied, “It’s no problem. Have Garcia text me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thanks,” answered Hotch. “I appreciate it.” Then he hung up.
Reid managed to flip his cell shut before Dewi hooked a hand round the back of his neck and pulled him closer for a kiss. Reid enjoyed the sensation for a moment and then moved his face reluctantly away, shaking his head.
“I have to go,” he said, shoving his cell back into his pocket.
Dewi slid a hand over Reid’s ass. “What for?” he drawled.
Reid sighed. His date was nothing if not persistent. “There's a serial killer in Washington,” he replied.
Dewi shrugged. “What do you care?”
“It’s my job!” retorted Reid.
Dewi frowned at him. “So let this other guy do the killing for a bit then. It saves you some work.” He pushed his hips forward, grinding his erection against Reid’s.
“No,” said Reid patiently. “I’m not employed as a serial killer. I work for the FBI catching the bad guys.” He marvelled sometimes at how ignorant of the human world some faeries could be.
Dewi pouted. “But I’m here as your date,” he pointed out. “Are you just going to leave me like this?”
“I’m sorry,” replied Reid, stroking his cheek gently. “But I really do have to go back.”
There was a sigh and then Dewi nodded. “Okay,” he said. “But be careful of your father.” He wagged a finger at Reid. “When he finds out you’ve left early - you are going to be in deep shit.”
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Two weeks after the wedding, Reid finally invited Hotch back to his apartment. The case they had just finished had gotten them working at a relentless pace, with no time for any contact more than lingering looks and suggestive text messages. The drive to Hotch’s house was going to be torture for both of them and so Reid suggested his place as it was nearer.
Once inside, Reid hurried to make sure he had clean sheets and sent Hotch to make himself comfortable.
Hotch strolled into the living room, smiling to himself. He had never seen Reid in his natural habitat before and was delighting in discovering this side to him.
He was not expecting to see someone standing in the living room, peering at a bookshelf with hands clasped behind his back. Reid had not mentioned a room mate. Hotch started to draw his gun.
“There’s no need for that,” said the man without turning round. “I’m not a threat.” His voice was deep and melodic.
Hotch slowly raised his gun. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
The man turned to face Hotch and smiled at him. “I could ask you the same thing.” he replied. “But I already know the answer.” His smile widened and he tilted his head slightly to one side.
The man was tall and very handsome, with dark hair falling in loose curls nearly to his shoulders. He was dressed in a red silk shirt with a black jacket and what appeared to be a black leather skirt with black knee length boots that laced up the front. He held out a hand towards Hotch. “Please holster your weapon,” he said. “Those things can make a terrible mess.”
Hotch held the gun steady. “Who are you?” he growled. Then he heard Reid enter the room and gasp. Without turning round, he said warningly, “Spencer - get the phone and call for back-up.”
The man’s brow furrowed and he made a beckoning motion with his fingers. Hotch’s gun flew from his grasp and the man caught it deftly. “Have you forgotten your manners, Caoimhin?” said the man, addressing Reid.
Stunned, Hotch reached for his ankle holster. A hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Hotch,” said Reid softly. “It’s okay.” He moved closer, standing next to Hotch and gesturing reluctantly towards the man standing in his living room. “Hotch - this is my father.”
The man gave a flourish and bowed. Then he held his hand out to Hotch. “Dubhlainn, son of Idris, American ambassador of the Daoine Sidhe.” He smiled as Hotch shook his hand automatically. “Enchanted.”
“Aaron Hotchner,” said Hotch in disbelief. He frowned at Reid. “Your father?”
Reid nodded and reddened as he answered. “William Reid is my step-father. This is . . . um . . . my real father.”
Hotch gaped at the man who had placed his gun gently on the bookshelf. “How did you get in here?” he asked. “And how did you take my gun?” He glanced at Reid who was hugging himself nervously. He didn’t look too comfortable having his father here.
Dubhlainn reached out and cupped Reid’s chin. “Hospitality matters, Caoimhin,” he said smoothly. “I think a drink is in order. Something smoky, yet sweet - Lagavulin I think?”
Reid nodded and hurried to the kitchen. Hotch tried hard not to stare at Reid’s father but it was difficult, particularly with how he was dressed.
Dubhlainn had noticed Hotch’s interest and smirked at him, smoothing his hands down the soft leather hanging from his waist. “It’s a kilt,” he informed Hotch. “Jean Paul Gaultier made it especially for me. Do you like it?”
Hotch shrugged. “It’s . . . um . . . very unusual.”
Dubhlainn gave a soft laugh. “And surprisingly practical.” He looked up as Reid came back into the room carrying a bottle and three glasses. “Ahh, Caoimhin, excellent.”
Hotch rubbed at his forehead, trying to understand what was going on and why Reid’s father was calling him a different name.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” he started, “But how did you get in here and . . . and . . . what is going on?”
Dubhlainn chuckled and gestured towards the couch. “Please sit down,” he said and Hotch obeyed. Then Dubhlainn held out his hands, palms upwards and said, “Tell me, Aaron Hotchner, do you believe in faeries?” Smirking at Hotch’s puzzled scowl he went on, ”And don’t worry, my continued existence is not dependent on you giving the correct answer.”
Hotch swallowed nervously. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Dubhlainn tilted his head. “Faeries -The Fair Folk - Elves - The Daoine Sidhe. Are we something you believe in?” he asked in a lilting tone.
“I’ve never given it much thought,” replied Hotch, honestly. “I guess not. At least, I’ve never met any.”
Dubhlainn nodded and poured the drinks. “Understandable - many of us avoid your world. Some, however,” he said, indicating Reid, “Choose to live here.” He held up a tumbler of whisky. “It’s a single malt - how do you take it?”
“With a little water, please,” replied Hotch, still trying to process what this man was telling him. Reid was no help, standing with his arms folded and scowling at his father like a sulky teenager.
A knowing look spread across Dubhlainn’s face and with a rapid movement of his fingers, he produced a small jug from nowhere and poured some water into Hotch’s glass. “I am so glad to see that you understand how to drink whisky properly.” He handed the glass to Hotch. “If you had asked for ice or a mixer, I would have had to put an end to your relationship with my son.” He said this without laughing and Hotch wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.
Reid spoke with barely contained anger, almost snatching his glass out of his father’s hand. “What are you doing here?”
His father tutted. “Really, Caoimhin - I am just explaining your family to your lover - being as you obviously haven’t taken the trouble.”
“Spencer” snapped Reid. “Don’t call me that name here.”
Dubhlainn turned to Hotch with a shrug. “Such a beautiful and ancient name and yet he casts it aside. But he gets his temper from his mother. Have you met Diana?”
Hotch swallowed a mouthful of whisky and felt it warm his throat. “Briefly,” he replied.
“She was quite something when she was young,” said Dubhlainn with a sigh. “We had a lot of fun.”
“Is that what you call it?” interrupted Reid. “What about me?”
Putting a hand up to shush him, Dubhlainn moved to sit next to Hotch on the couch. “Diana wanted to keep her son with her and I reluctantly agreed. There was a potential step-father on the scene and so my part-faery boy grew up here.” He paused. “Which explains a lot.”
Hotch frowned at him. “So you are telling me that you are both faeries?” He drained his glass with a shudder and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You must understand that I’m finding this hard to take in.” If he hadn’t seen Dubhlainn remove his gun and then produce a water jug out of nowhere, he would have thought the poor man to be as deluded as Diana Reid.
“Of course,” nodded Dubhlainn. “His heritage could be easily misunderstood, which is why it would have been better for Caoimhin to have been brought up with me.”
Reid slammed his hand down on the arm of his chair. “It’s Spencer!” he cried. “You are doing that on purpose.”
Dubhlainn ignored him and moved closer to Hotch, placing a hand on his knee. “Diana did her best,” he purred, “And while he has her eyes, his bone structure is pure Fae. He is quite lovely, don’t you agree?”
Hotch nodded, feeling suddenly very warm. Reid’s father was a very attractive man and his hand was edging up Hotch’s thigh.
His voice dropped and Dubhlainn continued. “And I would be very surprised if he was anything but a very sensuous companion in bed?”
Hotch swallowed hard, aware that Dubhlainn was gently massaging his upper thigh and yet unable to move away.
“You have beautiful eyes,” murmured Dubhlainn. “And my son tells me you are a great kisser. More whisky?”
“Dad!” hissed Reid. “Stop it.”
Dubhlainn waved his hand and the bottle refilled their glasses as Hotch looked on with amazement. “His mother didn’t have him circumcised, on my advice, and I hope you are both enjoying the benefits of that.”
“Please don’t talk about this,” groaned Reid, putting his head in his hands. “I am in the room.”
Hotch smiled at Dubhlainn. If he didn’t know any better he could have sworn that the faery was flirting with him. “I think it enhances things for him,” he replied with a smile, unsure why he was even answering the question. “For me too.” Why on earth was he discussing this with Reid’s father?
Dubhlainn nodded approvingly. “Good, good,” he said, “And whilst we know size isn’t everything, let me assure you that he does take after me.”
Reid’s voice cut through the warm sexy haze Hotch appeared to be drifting in. “Stop talking about my penis,” he pleaded.
Dubhlainn looked genuinely surprised as he turned to him. “This is your lover,” he said, “Why wouldn’t he be interested in your penis?”
Hotch smirked. “It’s very nice,” he said, before he could stop himself. “I do like it.”
Reid jumped to his feet. “Right, that’s enough,” he said, pointing to the door. “Go home. I don’t need you interfering in my life, turning up here without an invitation, and pawing my boyfriend while you both discuss my cock. It’s not fair!”
“Quiet please,” warned Dubhlainn. “I’m just getting to know him.”
“Getting to know him?” spluttered Reid. “By manoeuvring your tongue down his throat? Leave my boyfriend alone. I’m sick of you just sticking your-”
Dubhlainn scowled and then gestured towards Reid, cutting him off mid-sentence. The young man looked stunned and put his fingers to his lips, before staring wide eyed at his father.
“Now sit down,” commanded Dubhlainn. “I did warn you to be quiet.”
Reid slumped down into his chair, silenced. Dubhlainn chuckled at Hotch’s shocked expression. “Come now, Aaron, you must have wished you could do that sometimes.” He leaned forwards and reassured him. “It’s temporary - he’ll get his voice back when you and I have finished talking.” He stroked a finger down Hotch’s cheek.
Reid kicked hard at his chair and slammed his fist down on the upholstery. Dubhlainn’s eyes narrowed at him. “Do I need to add an immobilisation charm? No? Well stop the drama then.”
He turned back to Hotch. “You’ll have to forgive my son. He didn’t really have an adolescence, so he tends to act out now and again.”
“How did you . . . ?” Hotch’s voice trailed off. “Don’t you need a wand or something?”
Dubhlainn rolled his eyes dramatically. “J K Rowling has a lot to answer for,” he sighed. “Idiot woman. My power comes from within - I don’t need to wave a stick of wood around - and neither does Caoimhin - sorry, Spencer.”
“You do magic?” asked Hotch, looking startled. “Real magical magic?”
Still scowling at his father, Reid shrugged and then nodded.
“His powers are limited firstly because he insists on living as a human and secondly because he won’t apply himself.” said Dubhlainn sharply. “Our children can be such a joy and such a source of frustration, don’t you agree?”
Frowning, Hotch replied, “I guess so. My son is very young, so . . .”
“But you appreciate the importance of family,” continued Dubhlainn in a velvet voice, placing his hand back on Hotch’s thigh. “And Spencer’s family ask so little of him, considering.”
Hotch stole a glance at Reid, who had sat back in the chair, arms folded and glaring at them both. Hotch knew he shouldn’t be responding to Dubhlainn like this, but he just couldn’t help it. He reached up and loosened his tie.
Dubhlainn went on. “Which is why there was so much upset at Spencer walking out of his brother’s wedding without a word to anybody. I had a lot of ruffled feathers to smooth over.”
Hotch frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I only asked him to come to work because we really needed him.” He glanced at Reid who was still scowling. “I didn’t know he had a brother.”
Dubhlainn nodded. “Yes, he has two half-brothers. Ruairdrhi, who was getting married, is a model. He was on the cover for last month’s Italian Vogue.” He smiled fondly. “Tristan is a musician. We are very proud of them both.”
Hotch noticed Reid sigh silently and push his hair crossly off his face. “Spencer does important work as well. He is a wonderful profiler.”
Dubhlainn’s fingers massaged Hotch’s inner thigh, creeping closer to his crotch. “Of course he has a wonderful profile,” he said, his voice like honey, “He is part faery.”
Fighting the attraction, Hotch placed a hand over Dubhlainn’s. “Not that sort of profile. He helps us to understand and therefore catch the people we are looking for. You should be proud of him too.”
Dubhlainn shrugged dismissively. “Humans chasing humans who can’t stop hurting other humans is of very little interest.”
“To you perhaps,” said Hotch angrily. “But Spencer’s work matters. He deserves to matter to his parents.”
Dubhlainn snickered. “My, my,” he said softly, “You’ve got it bad for him, haven’t you?” He sat up and his voice sharpened. “He is my kin and of course he matters. However, he behaved extremely badly at Ruairdrhi’s wedding and he has to apologise. I don’t think you understand how serious this is.”
“Well let him apologise to you then,” shrugged Hotch. “I’m sure he didn’t upset anybody intentionally.”
Shaking his head, Dubhlainn replied, “He made a promise and he broke it. And for that, he needs to make amends. I suggest you manage without him for a few days while he returns to Faerie and spends some time with his family.”
Seeing Reid kick the chair in fury, Hotch hesitated. “But what if he doesn’t want to?”
Dubhlainn leaned closer to Hotch. “He doesn’t have a choice. He comes willingly or he will be bound and taken there.” He paused. “Willingly is always preferable.”
Reluctantly, Hotch nodded. There was an edge to Dubhlainn’s voice and it unsettled him. “I guess he will have to go then. What will he do there?”
Dubhlainn smiled and stroked Hotch’s cheek. “His swordsmanship is shocking, so he can practise with an expert.”
“Why does he need to be able to use a sword?” frowned Hotch.
“Every cultured faery should be able to ride a horse and fight with a sword,” said Dubhlainn airily. “It’s a dangerous world out there and these skills could be vital.”
Hotch wanted to ask more, but the warning look in Dubhlainn’s eyes stopped him.
Then the faery stood up and walked over to Reid. “Always a pleasure, a chuisle,” he said smoothly, patting him on the head. Reid glared back in response and Dubhlainn smothered a laugh. Then he turned back to Hotch, murmuring. “He looks so cute when he does that.”
Hotch stood up and held out his hand. Dubhlainn took it and bowed low, planting a kiss on the back of it. “It was delightful to meet you, Aaron Hotchner of the FBI.” He stood back upright and whispered in Hotch’s ear. “I will leave the silencing charm until morning. Enjoy.”
Then he turned sharply on his heel and vanished, leaving Hotch staring at the space where he had been. What the hell had just happened?
Hotch was startled out of his thoughts by Reid stalking out of the room and beginning to get ready for bed, extremely noisily, banging and slamming doors. Following him into the bathroom, Hotch leaned on the door frame and watched Reid brush his teeth and then spit vigorously into the sink. He waited while his lover washed and dried his face and then pulled a brush crossly through his hair.
Reid made to push past him but Hotch caught hold of his shoulders and stopped him. “Hey,” he said softly, “I know you’re upset, but it will be gone by morning. There are hundreds of questions I want to ask you and I’m sure you’ve got plenty to say to me, but for tonight let’s just be together.”
Reid scowled through his hair at Hotch and then his shoulders dropped in silent acceptance. He nodded.
Hotch pulled him into an embrace. “I’m glad you stayed in this world,” he murmured. “I would never have met you otherwise. And don’t worry about your father - I don't want him.”
Hotch tilted his head and kissed Reid gently on the lips. “Now show me your bedroom,” he growled.
He followed his lover into the bedroom and they tumbled onto the bed. Reid kissed him with urgency, his hips bucking underneath Hotch’s weight. The only sounds Hotch could hear as they kissed and touched each other were his own and he became conscious of the noises of his arousal in the quiet of Reid’s bedroom. His groans and growls were amplified in contrast to Reid’s silence and Hotch felt almost primal in his lust.
“I want to fuck you,” whispered Hotch, his request filling the room.
Reid nodded at him and scooted up the bed, pulling open his nightstand drawer and rummaging. He removed a condom and lube and slammed them into Hotch’s hand.
Hotch chuckled at his eagerness and bent his head to tease his lover’s nipple for a moment before starting to prepare them both for sex.
Their lovemaking had been so noisy before - moans, whimpers, whispered half-phrases, yells and keening cries. Hotch was now left to make the noise for both of them and his moan as he pushed into his lover seemed to echo around the darkened walls.
He had usually taken his cues from his lover’s sounds but with Reid now silenced, Hotch focussed on his body. He noted Reid’s chest rising and falling rapidly but with no breath sounds tumbling out of his mouth. He felt him twist and writhe beneath him, his movements taking on a frantic jerkiness.
Hotch thrust harder into him as Reid’s grip tightened on his shoulders. Hotch moved a hand to fist the young man’s cock and his hips surged upwards in response. The room was buzzing with a soundtrack of sweat soaked bodies colliding and sliding together and Hotch’s moans.
He was close and he guessed Reid was too. Reid began to slam one fist against the mattress, beating out the rhythm of his orgasm as his cock jerked and he came all over Hotch’s hand. Hotch groaned loudly, thrusting and coming deep inside his lover’s body as Reid still pounded the bed.
And when they could both move again, Hotch cleaned them up and took Reid in his arms, kissing him all over his face. He still couldn’t quite believe the events of this evening and knew that there would be so much to discuss the next day when Reid could speak again. However, he was going to enjoy the silence for now as they both drifted into sleep.
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No man is responsible for his father. That was entirely his mother’s affair.
Margaret Turnbull
TBC
Part Four