Finding home - 5/7

[kendermouse]

See part 0 for warnings and author's notes
Part 0 = Here
Part 1 = Here
Part 2 = Here
Part 3 = Here
Part 4 = Here


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next two weeks were a nightmare for Aaron and the BAU team; back-to-back consults across the country from each other. Luckily, both cases turned out well. In one, the kidnapped little girl was found, unharmed and happy when her abductor’s estranged husband called the tip line. He’d been horrified to learn that the woman had kidnapped the child thinking it was a way she could win him back and save their marriage. The woman was now receiving mental health treatment and the child had been returned to her frantic parents. The second case took them to Oregon and ended with Morgan on crutches and an unsub learning the hard way never to insult or underestimate a female federal agent. Morgan had spent the majority of the flight home teasing Emily about her mean right hook while she threatened to show Garcia the video of his ungraceful slide down a hillside if he didn’t stop. Aaron thought about stepping in, but the smiles and laughter that accompanied each threat convinced him to let it slide. Though he did throw in the expected scowl and raised eyebrow, just to keep them from worrying about him.

His cell chirped with a text just before they touched down in Virginia. He smiled as Patrick’s name appeared on the screen. He opened the text, curious as to what his Sir could want.

‘Have info. OHouse fnd something, don’t knw if can use. Meet?’

While this was important, Aaron was tired and wanted to see his son. ‘Lunch tomorrow?’ he texted. ‘Just home. Jack, Shower & bed in future.’ He hit send, hoping Sir would understand.

‘Noon,’ came the quick reply. ‘My treat. Hug the tree frog for me.’

Aaron couldn’t help the chuckle as he read the text. Jack had come back from a trip to the zoo with Uncle Sean and Aunt Jessica with a brightly colored stuffed frog and a new obsession with poison tree frogs. Patrick had been amused by the boy’s enthusiasm and had sent Jack several books on the tiny amphibians and had, in the process, become Jack’s favorite ‘new uncle’. He’d insisted Aaron invite ‘Uncle Patrick’ to dinner, and had helped make the frog shaped cookies they’d enjoyed for desert. After dinner he’d climbed unselfconsciously into Patrick’s lap, handed him one of the books and asked to be read to. Aaron had been surprised but pleased. Patrick had been stunned. And Jack had fallen asleep in Patrick’s lap halfway through the story. Jack had been ‘tree frog’ ever since, much to the little boy’s delight. It was just one more way that Patrick had slipped so easily into his life. Aaron wondered if he should worry, but decided he was too tired, and too content, to do so.

“That’s an intriguing smile.”

Aaron felt his cheeks heat at JJ’s gentle teasing.

“It’s a good look for you,” she continued. “Good news?” she asked, pointing to the phone in Aaron’s hand.

“Mixed news,” he admitted. “Meeting tomorrow for lunch with Patrick.” He ignored JJ’s knowing smile. “To discuss a possible situation that may require our assistance.”

JJ’s expression turned serious. “Why would Mr. Zakaria be bringing us information rather than a law enforcement group?” she asked.

“It may be nothing, and the group he represents is… reluctant to trust law enforcement,” he told her quietly. “So, he asked David and I to take a look at things and see if there’s anything we might, unofficially, be able to suggest before he goes to the police.”

JJ nodded. “If you’d like another set of eyes,” she offered.

“You just want a chance to ogle the poor man again,” Derek teased sleepily from his seat opposite them.

“You know. I’m sure I can convince Emily to share that video,” JJ shot back, neither confirming nor denying the allegation. The good-natured teasing began again, other members of the team joining in even as Aaron texted back his agreement to Patrick’s offer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Seriously?” Garcia studied JJ intently, looking for any sign the other woman was teasing her.

“Seriously. Slid down the hill on his oh so attractive backside, flailing all the way,” JJ confirmed with a smirk, waving a forkful of salad at the agent in question. “And Prentiss just happened to catch the majority of it with her phone.”

“Because she was too busy laughing to even try and help,” Derek growled from his chair where he sat with his ‘severely sprained ankle’ elevated in a secondary chair as he ate his lunch.

“It wasn’t like you were in any danger, Morgan,” Prentiss defended, pointing at him with her chopsticks. “And you’re the one that decided to go all mountain man even after the local guys warned you it was slippery.”

“We needed to check the area and I still say I saw something down there,” Morgan protested.

“Well, there wasn’t anything found after they hauled your complaining carcass back ‘up’ the hill.” She turned amused eyes to the two blonde women watching the playful exchange and winked. “You’d have thought he’d been mauled by the way he fussed about his *pants* of all things.”

“Hey,” he cautioned. “Those were my favorite slacks and a gift from my momma, and they were ruined. I had a right to be upset. Besides,” he added with self-depreciating grin, “it kept me from contemplating how I’d just undermined *any* respect those guys had for me by sliding down a hill on my butt.”

They all shared in the good-natured laughter, relieved that Morgan hadn’t been seriously injured.

“Actually,” Reid interjected between bites of his lunch, “the local LEOs seemed to really warm up to you after that. I think it made you more… human and less ‘FBI’ in their eyes.”

“Did you just imply I’m not human, boy genius?” Morgan shot back.

Reid’s brow furrowed in confusion. “No. I only meant that, in general, most local law enforcement personnel view any Federal intervention, even ones they’ve specifically requested, as a threat. That threat extends to the FBI personnel who come to assist. Add to your ‘threat’ status your charisma and dominant personality and you come across as very… intimidating to some. So an incident that allows the local officers a chance to see you as something less than perfect while not interfering with the case is actually a benefit. Especially if you show that you’ve got a sense of humor about the incident.”

“So see, Morgan,” Prentiss added with a grin, “You should slide down hills on your posterior more often.”

Morgan rolled his eyes and threw a carrot stick at her, which she caught and bit into with a deliberate show of teeth.

“Cold!” Morgan teased, eliciting more laughter and good-natured teasing around the break room table.

“Good, you’re all here.”

Garcia turned at the sound of Hotch’s voice from behind her. He was flanked by Agent Rossi and an older man she hadn’t met before. The newcomer was a touch shorter than both Hotch and Rossi but made up for it by sheer presence, even without saying a word. He was broad-shouldered and a touch on the stocky side but his suit was beautifully tailored and fit his compact frame to perfection. It was obviously not off the rack - or cheap. His short red hair and beard were both liberally dusted with silver that added a sense of age that was countered by the youthful gleam in his green eyes as he watched the gathered team. The eyes settled on her and she felt her cheeks heat as he winked at her.

“Patrick, I believe you know everyone here except Garcia,” Hotch said to the older man. “Penelope Garcia, this is Patrick Zakaria. Patrick, this is the computer expert I was telling you about.” He held out a file to her and she took it automatically. “You’re actually the first one I needed to speak with, Garcia. I need you to check over the information here and see if you can find out anything further on the cases or people involved.” He turned away from her and back to his guest. “Not that I don’t trust your sources, Patrick,” he assured the other man, “but corroboration from a recognized FBI source will only add to the weight of the request. And if anyone can find further information on those cases, it’s Garcia.”

“Actually, Sir,” she reluctantly interrupted. “I won’t be able to.”

Hotch turned back to her, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“I won’t be able to find additional information on these incidents,” she repeated, motioning to the file she held.

“And why not?” he asked, dangerously calm.

“Because this is all the information there was,” she said quietly. She looked at Mr. Zakaria. “I’m assuming you’re Sir Patrick?” she asked. At his nod she held out her hand, the small obsidian signet ring prominent on her little finger. “Lady Bella, House Obsidian.”

Sir Patrick took her hand, smiling. “Finally, a beautiful face to go with the amazing voice,” he greeted, raising her hand to his lips and brushing a light kiss across her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear.”

She turned back to Hotch who was staring at her in surprise. “I’m the one who ran the initial searches. Not on FBI time or with FBI resources of course, I learned my lesson on that!” she hurriedly clarified. “But even with all the House contacts and information sources, that’s all I could find, Sir.”

Hotch nodded. “Then we’ll go with this for the briefing then, and I’ll have you fill everyone in as you are the most familiar with the information.” He looked at the team. “This case is a bit unusual because it was brought to us by a concerned minority group that is reluctant to trust the police in the best of circumstances, and this is definitely *not* the best of circumstances. Mr. Zakaria is here as a representative of several leading groups within this subculture and is the one who approached Agent Rossi and myself for advice. Since the crimes in question have crossed state lines, the FBI has jurisdiction however, we may be working closely with several NYPD divisions, DC Metro, the Electronic Terrorism and Exploitation Task Force, and other entities as we uncover more about the unsub.”

“Wow,” Derek breathed, leaning back in his chair, “That’s a lot of cross-jurisdictional headaches. What group are we talking about here, Hotch?”

“The BDSM and Leather communities,” Garcia answered for their boss, eyes watching the other team members to gauge their reactions to the information not only about the case, but about her as well.

Derek blinked in surprise, looking from Garcia to Mr. Zakaria to Hotch and back again. “BDSM? The whole bondage and dominatrix scene? Baby girl you and I are gonna have a long talk after this is over,” he said, pointing a finger at Garcia. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“No I haven’t,” she purred back at him in the voice she normally reserved for her Bella Voce podcasts, “you just decided not to take me up on the offers.” Her dark, sensual chuckle at Derek’s confused expression made several people in the room shiver in anticipation of what that voice could do. “But that’s neither here nor there,” she continued, voice relaxing back into the bright, cheerful ‘Garcia’ they were all used to. “Right now we have someone on the loose attacking dominant men in the community and leaving them to die. That’s the important thing right now. The last young man to get hurt was a friend of mine and he didn’t deserve what happened to him and I’d really like for you guys to find and stop this person before someone else gets hurt.”

Hotch smiled at the determined tech. “You heard the lady. Fifteen minutes in the conference room.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The team gathered in the conference room with time to spare. Hotch was surprised when Patrick entered with Garcia. He started to question her when she caught his expression.

“He’s worked with House Obsidian before and is familiar with the Community,” she explained confidently. “He might notice something that we’ve missed and since the information in the files is from House records and not confidential FBI files, I didn’t think including him would violate any regulations.” She ended less confidently than she’d started, but she held Hotch’s gaze the entire time.

Aaron looked from the tech to Patrick and back again then nodded. “Very good.” He ushered Patrick to a chair and settled in beside him. “The floor is yours, Garcia.”

She nodded, a faint blush staining her cheeks as she handed out the folders with the information she’d managed to gather. “Okay. First off, most of the information in these files is *not* from police sources… except the initial mugging reports. Luckily, the House network saw some possible connections cropping up and started keeping an eye on things, but they didn’t have all the information either so it wasn’t until Sir Patrick made the official request and they asked me to do some digging and rumor chasing that the connections became pretty scarily obvious. Secondly, some of what’s here is rumor and speculation and the dominants involved won’t give any more information even when asked by House members they’re comfortable with. Some of the older Obsidian members think there might be some blackmail or threatening going on, but we can’t prove anything.”

“Whoa. Slow down, baby girl,” Derek said gently. “Breathe. Let’s back up, okay. Who or what is House Obsidian and why would our victims go to them and not the police?”

Garcia took a deep breath and visibly relaxed, calming herself and starting again. “House Obsidian is an international group of likeminded BDSM, Leather and Alternative Lifestyle enthusiasts who work to educate people about the reality of those lifestyles. We also have an… underground network of sorts for people within the lifestyles who are looking for ways out of abusive relationships. We help them escape abusive situations, help them find housing, medical and mental health assistance that’s lifestyle friendly, and anything else that can help them start fresh and learn the difference between abusive and healthy relationships. We also keep track of lifestyle friendly professionals in the area, lawyers, doctors, that kind of thing and we unofficially track incidences of injury or reports of malicious or dangerous behavior within the communities to, kind of keep an eye on possible issues.”

“So you’re a policing organization?” Prentiss asked.

“No,” Garcia answered quickly. “While we do offer… advocacy and assistance if someone wants to go to the police we don’t have any ‘official authority’ within the communities. That whole ‘power corrupts’ thing has come into play *way* too often for the House to be comfortable with that role. We just… try and offer support and advice and a safe place for people in the lifestyle. We encourage victims to go to the police if a situation warrants it, but since that’s not always an option for one reason or another, we try and find other options for the parties involved. Since the House is known as a ‘safe space’ for everyone, regardless of role within the scene, House members generally get a lot of information that others wouldn’t. While the House doesn’t officially investigate anything, we do assist with information gathering if requested and will give an opinion of what we find.” She shrugged. “Like now.”

She gestured to the folders. “Sir Patrick approached House Obsidian two weeks ago asking us about three attacks on members of the local community. He also suggested searching outside the local areas and that was an amazing call. Beyond finding the ‘in’ the FBI needed to officially investigate, it also identified a threat to three separate communities that the House could then notify local groups to be on the alert for.” She nodded to Patrick. “So, thank you, Sir.”

Patrick nodded back, smiling in encouragement.

“That’s the good news. The bad news is there is someone targeting male dominants in three very active communities and the victims aren’t likely to come forward. There have been nine attacks in as many months in three different states; five here in Virginia, three in New York and one in DC. Two are primarily internet based dominants, and total slimeballs, btw, while the remaining seven were attacked at clubs where members of the BDSM and Leather communities go. So this person knows the community, or at least where to find members of the community.”

“How do we know they’re all connected?” Derek asked as he flipped through the images and statistics in the folder. “There’s a range of ages, different socio-economic levels, different looks, even the types of clubs they frequented are different.”

“As are their styles of play and kink, and the submissives they seem to look for,” Rossi added. He looked up at Garcia. “It seems the only things they really have in common are they’re dominant Caucasian men at least nominally involved in the BDSM lifestyle.”

“Ah. That’s what I thought too,” Garcia admitted. “At first.” She settled back in the chair and studied the people around the table. “Then I started digging in the House files, informal reports of dominant misconduct, submissives who’d come to the House for assistance, things that community and House members had looked in to. And that’s where the connection came in. Unfortunately, it’s not something that could be used in a court of law even *if* you could get the victims to come forward.” She changed the slide and images of the men from the folder displayed. “All of the men in question had, at some point, been involved in allegations of misconduct or abuse.”

The slides changed until two men remained on the screen. “These are our two internet slimeballs.” She pointed to a blond haired, slender, non-descript looking man. “Dwight Gaertner, age 44, resident of Virginia and less than nice when it came to dealing with the sweet young, and I stress the young part, things he met online as ‘Lord Darkness’,” she rolled her eyes. “He appears to be our first victim. He was found by his sister in early July in his trailer, beaten to a bloody pulp and barely alive. He’d been physically and sexually assaulted and all he could remember was that the ‘date’ he’d set up with a girl he’d met online went sideways and he’d been jumped by a big guy and beaten up over the course of two days.” She held up a finger to forestall the question she knew was coming. “Yes, I did try and trace the woman in question but the ISP addy was to an internet café that doesn’t log its users and the profile in question was completely bogus. Mr. Gaertner did not give a description beyond, ‘big, dark haired, and brutal’ and as he committed suicide a month after the attack, there’s no chance to even try and find out more.”

“Internet slimeball number two, and victim number six,” she pointed to the man with long, stringy brown hair and a scraggly beard and mustache. “Delmar Small, aka ‘Master Dragon of House Landfall’, age 45 and resident of our own lovely state, unfortunately. He was found by one of his submissives the day before Thanksgiving when she came over to start preparing his Thanksgiving meal for him. Of all the victims, he was, until this last attack, the worst injured. He spent nearly a month in the hospital recovering from his injuries and it wasn’t pretty. Same story as with Mr. Gaertner, he’d set up a meet with a woman he met online who claimed she was looking to be ‘his thing to use as Master wishes’ - and instead he was met by a big guy who seemed to take great delight in ‘humiliation, degradation and sadistic non-consensual acts’.”

She clicked off the slides and turned back to the team. “The rest of the victims are generally men of good standing in the Community. Only one, Reginald Vandermark, victim number two, would be considered a ‘risk’ by most people in the community. And he’s just a jerk who lies about being single then promises all kinds of things just so he can get pretty submissives to do kinky things with him.” She pointed to the folder in front of her. “The victims talk about being possibly drugged, attacked, taken somewhere they’re not familiar with where they’re kept blindfolded so they can’t see their attackers. They’re beaten and sometimes worse, then drugged again and dumped somewhere out of the way where they have to work to be found.” She shivered. “The last victim, Paul, is a sweet kid who may never walk again because of some of the damage to his back. He was left in a warehouse district behind a building that looked abandoned, but had luckily just been leased. The owner happened to come by to check his property and found Paul. If he hadn’t, Paul most likely would have died there. We need to find this guy and stop him before he succeeds in killing someone.”

“We will, Baby Girl,” Derek reassured. He studied the file. “It says here that three of the victims were blackmailed about a month after the attack. Does that hold for all of the victims?”

“I don’t know,” Garcia answered resignedly. “Because of some of the reactions the victims had after the fact, there’s suspicion that there was blackmail involved, but there’s nothing I can find to confirm or deny it. If they are being blackmailed, it’s not for a great deal of money or over a prolonged time, at least not that I can find. Which is saying something,” she added with a rueful smile. “But, some of these victims, I’m betting, would go a long way to keep their kinks, and knowledge of what happened to them during the attack, quiet.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Patrick sat and watched the team work. His boy, correction, SSA Hotchner, was an amazing leader, offering quiet suggestions and meaningful praise that spurred his team on. Watching him work, Patrick would have pegged him as a skilled and well-trained dominant, not the sweet, attentive submissive Patrick knew him to be. It was interesting to see this side of Aaron. He listened as the team discussed victimology and worked up a profile of the type of ‘unsub’ that fit the parameters they had. He knew some of the names being discussed, Kevin Drexel - a fairly new dominant to the area and quite skilled at takedowns and heavy scenes, Trevor Nilan - a family man who’d had problems with child services after a nosy neighbor decided that Trevor’s lifestyle was an ‘issue’, and of course Sid Hammerback from New York who, apparently, was an ME for the NYPD, that would explain his skill with a scalpel at least. Sid and Trevor had reported their attacks and the blackmail attempts to the authorities and refused to pay, but so far, the investigations had turned up very little.

He was beginning to feel useless when Agent Prentiss asked about something he *could* help with.

“What the hell makes these kinds of marks?” she asked, studying a picture of some of Trevor’s injuries.

“May I?” he asked, holding out his hand. He studied the image for a moment, taking in the marks. His eyes widened. “Oh bloody hell,” he breathed. “Those are supposed to be for show.” He looked at Emily. “That’s from a ‘mind fuck flogger’ that’s shown up just recently in the local area. It’s made from strips of… plastic office floor mat with the securing points facing outward.” He pointed out the bloody lines to the side of the deep punctures. “From these gashes, I’d say the sides of the falls have been filed as well, bringing them to a sharper edge.” He leaned back, stunned. “I’ve heard of those floggers being used as… window dressing. I’ve heard of them being used lightly. But this… this was used at full strength by someone who was strong and wanted to hurt the other person. It might even have been weighted to give that depth of puncture. And to do that over the kidneys and the backs of the knees and the upper back and neck? That’s just… asking for your sub to be permanently injured.”

“Would it be distinctive?” she asked, searching through the images. “Could you tell if a flogger of that type was specifically the one used to do this?”

He thought for a moment. “Possibly?” he answered hesitantly. “I don’t think most in the community would carry something like that, at least not and actually use it.”

She turned and looked at the other members of the team. “Well, at least we might be able to tie the weapon to the unsub. All of the victims have those marks.”

“It’s something at least,” Rossi added.

“Has anyone noticed that, with the exception of two, the attacks occurred on the first Friday of the month?” Agent Reid asked. He turned to Patrick. “Is there a significance to that time of the month?”

Penny answered. “Most clubs have some sort of ‘thing’ on the first Friday. Locally, it’s often a night for newbies to come and check out the scene, meet people, see if it’s something they might like to get involved with.”

Reid nodded. “So a newcomer wouldn’t stand out on those nights. In fact, they’d be welcomed with open arms.”

“Well, as much as any unknown person is within the community,” Patrick added. “We’re a suspicious lot as a rule. And a big man, big enough to take down some of these men? He would stand out enough to be remembered, especially if people started getting hurt when he was at the clubs.”

“Wait,” Derek interjected, thumbing through his file quickly. “Didn’t Hammerback say something about a woman being attacked in an alley by the guy who attacked him?”

“Yes,” Aaron confirmed, eyes narrowing as he followed the younger agent’s thoughts. “Are you thinking a pair of unsubs?”

“It would explain things,” Derek said. “A ‘young woman of average build’, a woman met online. What if our unsub is using a female submissive as bait to get these guys complacent enough that he can attack them? It would explain how these vigilant straight guys could be drugged without realizing it. They were distracted by a pretty newbie looking for information on their community, and possibly on their particular kinks.”

“Doesn’t explain our last victim, though,” JJ countered. “According to this, Paul’s gay.”

“Gay, but not narrow,” Garcia said with a grin. “He’s become very good at working with newcomers. I’ve been really proud of how far he’s come in such a short time.” At the confused looks she explained. “There was an incident about nine months ago. Paul misread a situation that led to a panic by a new submissive. He was ‘put on probation’ and assigned to work with House Obsidian. I got to work with him on a ‘relocation due to abuse’ case and Paul was amazingly skilled at putting the submissive at ease. So when his probation was done, I had him apprenticed to the House Relocation and Information person so he could learn how to officially deal with those new to the community or looking for information about the community. He’s done amazingly well with both men and women. If she seemed new and curious…”

Patrick nodded his own understanding. It seemed his relationship with Aaron wasn’t the only positive thing that came out of that incident. He’d seen Paul work with newcomers and if there had been someone new, looking lost but interested, Paul wouldn’t have hesitated to approach her. He continued to listen as the team commented on Sid and Lord Dragon’s attacks and why they didn’t fit the patterns. The consensus was that Sid’s refusal to pay the blackmail had prompted not only the moving up of the next attack, but also the viciousness of the attack on Lord Dragon. Following that logic, Trevor’s refusal to pay probably led to the severity of Paul’s beating (not that he’d ever tell Sid or Trevor that). He followed the conversation with interest, enjoying watching these amazing men and women as they plied their craft. David was a born leader like Aaron, but seemed to favor the young Dr. Reid, challenging and praising the younger man in equal measure. Patrick wondered if his old friend was even aware he was doing it - or the way Dr. Reid responded to it. He watched the pair and realized he wasn’t the only one, Ms. Prentiss and Lady Bella were watching them as well, sharing small, knowing smiles when neither man was looking. He’d have to ask Aaron his thoughts on the matter when they were alone. He already knew David was fond and protective of Dr. Reid, but he wasn’t sure if it went beyond that.

Dr. Reid was an enigma. Insanely smart, able to see patterns and motives with an ease that left Patrick stunned time and again, but also a bit naïve about certain aspects of human interaction. Book knowledge he had. Practical experience, Patrick would hazard to guess, was a bit lacking. Agent Morgan made up for Dr. Reid’s innocence with a grasp of the intricacies of human interaction that would do a dominant proud. He drew information out of Lady Bella - out of Penny Garcia - that Patrick was certain she didn’t even know she knew. They’d found other commonalities between the victims, specific clubs that were targeted, a time frame between attack and blackmail and next attack, as well as indications that blackmail was indeed a factor in all the attacks. Odd amounts but specific timeframes sent to specific accounts. Accounts registered to one Greg Duggin. The name tugged at Patrick’s memory for some reason, but he couldn’t place why.

“Garcia. Can you find us a picture of Mr. Duggin?” Rossi asked, clearly having the same reaction Patrick was.

The rapid clicking of keys filled the quiet of the room. “Bingo.” A picture of a large man with dark, curly hair and a half-sneer filled the screen. “Mr. Gregory Duggin, age 41, resident of Newark, New Jersey, history of domestic battery, petty theft, drugs and known online as ‘sexyBearStud69’. *Real* classy.”

“Gregor,” David and Patrick breathed at nearly the same moment.

“I take it you both know this man?” Aaron asked calmly.

“He’s known as ‘Gregor’ and has a skill with whips, floggers, crops, and a taste for heavy impact play,” David supplied. “And he’s been banned from about 40 different clubs and dungeons in a four state area. If he’s involved, this just got even more complicated.”

“How do you know this guy?” Derek asked.

Rossi just smirked. “I had the pleasure of helping Patrick throw him out of a reception for one of my books after Gregor decided that Ruui’s sister was just playing ‘hard to get’. He’d been one of the ones I’d interviewed for my book ‘Sexual Sadism and the Reality of BDSM’. He’s a real piece of work, especially when it comes to his attitudes about women and their place in the Community. He’s one of those ‘dominants’ that give the rest of us a bad name.”

Patrick startled at the comment, wondering if David’s outing of himself as a member of the Community was deliberate or unintentional. Judging from David’s reaction to the sudden silence around the table, he’d have to say it was unintentional.

“Am I the *only* one here not involved in the kinky stuff?” Derek asked with a long suffering (and teasing) look at Reid.

The younger man blinked. “Do you mean currently, or just in general?” he asked with a straight, innocent face.

Prentiss choked on her coffee. JJ and Garcia giggled, though whether at the look on Derek Morgan’s face or the mild look on Dr. Reid’s face, Patrick wasn’t certain. Aaron just smiled and Rossi’s ‘quizzical’ eyebrow nearly mated with his hairline. Patrick watched as Reid caught David’s scrutiny and blushed. Well, that was certainly interesting. He made a mental note to talk with his boy about the implications for both men if they chose to act on such an attraction. Sunita wasn’t the *only* Zakaria with a tendency to match-make, and if anyone deserved to be happy, it was David Rossi.

“Okay, people,” Aaron interjected, drawing them back to task. “So, we have a sadistic male dominant and a submissive female who is possibly being used as a lure. We need to find out more about the woman in question. We need to talk to the two victims who were willing to talk to the police, Mr. Hammerback and Mr. Nilan, see if there is anything else they can remember about the young woman. Derek, you and Emily talk with Mr. Nilan. Dave, you and Reid see what you can find out from Mr. Hammerback. Garcia, I want everything you can find on Mr. Duggin and any new submissives he’s been associated with in the last nine months. Something triggered these attacks and we need to see if we can find what it was. JJ, I’d like for you, Patrick and I to continue looking through the reports to see if there’s some connection we’re missing. We need to determine how the unsubs choose their victims before they strike again, which, if they continue with their current pattern, will be next Friday.” He looked at his team. “We’re on the clock. Good luck.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Saturday was a day of breakthroughs and planning. The conversations with both Sid Hammerback and Trevor Nilan had helped them adjust their opinions of the woman’s role in the attacks. While she was obviously submissive to Gregor, she had fully participated in the attacks on the men.

She had landed several vicious kicks to Sid’s kidneys while going on about how he, ‘wouldn’t get away with what he’d done to Sylvie’. Garcia had traced the name to a disgruntled submissive who had been spreading rumors about Sid mistreating her. When asked about the accusations, he’d very plainly stated that she was upset because he’d refused to scene with her. She’d been “higher than a kite” when she’d approached him and he refused to apologize for his decision. “Impaired consent isn’t real consent,” he’d told Reid. “And I won’t play with *anyone* who can’t consent. If she wants to say that makes me a ‘stuck-up, self-righteous, holier-than-thou asshole’, she’s welcome to her opinion. But I won’t take those chances with a submissive who’s put herself and her body in my hands - it’s too precious a gift to risk seriously damaging it just because the giver doesn’t value it enough.” He blushed lightly, rubbing a hand absently over the back of his long neck. “Not that I have an opinion on the subject, mind you.”

“Of course not,” Rossi said with a knowing smile. “But as dominants, part of our job is to look out for the submissives in our care,” he confirmed, eyes glancing over at Reid. “Even if they’re only there for one session.”

“Exactly,” Sid confirmed. “Like the young woman I’d demo’ed with before the attack. We’d only met a few days before, but we’d spent as much time as possible discussing limits and safety and comfort levels, even though I’d probably never scene with her outside the demo. Just because it’s short term doesn’t mean you should take it for granted.”

The story with Trevor Nilan was similar. Unlike Sid Hammerback, who’d been attacked in an alley, Mr. Nilan had been drugged at a small club where he’d been acting as a ‘greeter’ for his local group. He remembered the young woman in question, average build, plain, quiet and clearly submissive. She’d all but blended into the background for most of the evening, only approaching him towards the end of the night to ask about the group and its activities. He wasn’t sure when she’d drugged him, but the effects had begun as he’d headed to his car. He’d awakened blindfolded and cold in an echoing space, stretched over a padded bench of some kind. The next day and half were a blur of pain and humiliation at the hands of his *two* captors. While the man had been physically violent, the woman had taken delight in berating him for his offenses towards his submissives. She’d hissed that he’d know what it was like to be ‘degraded’ by someone who ‘held all the power’. He still wasn’t sure what the woman was referring to, as the only submissives he had were his wife of fifteen years and the young woman who’d approached them about mentoring under them a few months before the attack. He’d never ‘degraded’ a submissive in his life and didn’t intend to start. Yes, he and his subs played hard and Sammy, the young sub, had specifically approached him and Amber because of their skills in takedowns and more ‘physical’ play, but he’d never abuse a submissive the way his attacker accused him of doing.

“That’s why I refused to pay the blackmail,” he told Derek. “I have nothing to be ashamed of, Agent Morgan, and I wasn’t about to let some violent and misinformed idiots make me think I did. Amber and Sammy and everyone that matters know who and what I am, and they know I’m a man of integrity. The rest of the world can go hang for all I care.”

Their comments led to the next break.

“Mama, answer me something,” Derek asked Garcia as the team gathered for a working supper. “How common is it for a dominant to take on a new submissive?”

Penny grinned wickedly. “Are you offering, sweet cheeks?” At his playfully censuring gesture she became all business. “Depends on the dominant. Some take new submissives all the time, either to mentor or just play with short term. Others don’t officially take on submissives at all, preferring to just ‘play’ as the opportunities strike, and still others will find a submissive and that’s it, they’re exclusive and won’t even entertain the idea of taking on someone else.” She studied the handsome agent. “Why?”

He put down his sandwich. “Okay. We know that Nilan, Hammerback and Paul Stephans were all working with submissives who were fairly new to them. You said that Vandermark and Small were known for trolling for new submissives all the time. What are the odds that the other dominants were also either looking for or had just found new submissives?”

Garcia’s hands flew over the keys of her laptop. “I don’t know about the others, but Gaertner was always looking for new young things online and his profile reflected that. There’s nothing in the rumor mill about the others. Oh wait, Fullbright, the poor guy visiting from Michigan who was attacked? He was apparently seen chatting up someone else’s submissive at the club he was later attacked outside of.”

“Kevin Drexel just moved into the area,” Patrick offered. “Sir Roland was introducing him around, so he’d fit into the category of ‘looking for a submissive’, and pretty much everyone knew it.”

“And our female unsub is focusing on how the victims are ‘mistreating’ their submissives,” Rossi said, following Morgan’s logic line. “So… she’s seeing herself as an avenging angel or maybe a guardian angel, protecting other submissives from dominants she feels are ‘risks’?”

“Would make sense,” Derek confirmed.

“But, the majority of the dominants in question,” Reid interjected, “were *cleared* of any allegations of misconduct.”

“It’s easier to live up to a good reputation than live *down* a bad one,” Garcia said ruefully. “I’ve seen good people nearly ruined by a rumor of misconduct. That’s the blessing and the curse of the Community, reputation is the cornerstone of how the Community sees and deals with you. Once that reputation’s been called into question, it can be hell to come back from.”

“And there’ll always be someone out there who’ll believe the worst, regardless of what evidence they’re given to the contrary,” Patrick added, accent thickening. “There are still those that think I was only with Ruui for his money, even after all this time.”

Rossi’s hand squeezed Patrick’s shoulder. “Well, at least we’ve got one more piece of the puzzle. So, Gregor and his partner are targeting dominant, Caucasian males who are at least rumored to have issues with how they treat their submissives, and who have recently taken or are looking to take on, a new submissive. It’s a start.”

“And I’m still working on tracking down Greg Duggin,” Garcia added, clearly disgruntled that she’d been unable to do so already. “The second he tries to access any of his accounts, use his cell phone or log on to his computer I’ll have him.”

“Baby girl, it’s not your fault he went off the grid,” Derek reassured.

“He’s most likely put everything in his partner’s name,” Aaron said gently. “You’ll find him.”

She smiled at the praise.

“But,” Aaron stated, looking around at the whole team. “We’ll come back to it tomorrow. I know it’s Sunday, but we’re close, and our unsubs will be on the lookout for a new target in six days time. We’ll meet back here tomorrow morning at 9am. Go home, get some sleep so we can come at things fresh tomorrow.”

The team didn’t need to be told twice and soon only Aaron, Patrick and David remained. Patrick rested a hand on his boy’s shoulder. “Orders go for the boss as well, Aaron,” he ordered softly. “Tree frog’s waiting for his da. Go home, boy.”

Aaron took a deep breath and looked over at his lover, his Sir. “Would you and David like to come over for a bit?” He hated that he sounded so… juvenile, but he honestly wasn’t sure how to ask. “Dave, Jack would love to see you, if nothing else to show you his newest book and,” he offered Patrick a small smile, “he’s been asking when ‘Uncle Patrick’ was coming to visit again.”

Rossi checked his watch before nodding. “I’ve missed Jack. Throw in a cup of your special coffee and you’ve got yourself a deal, Aaron.”

Patrick nodded. “Sounds like an ideal plan, Aaron. Lead on.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nine A.M. found not only the team, but Patrick Zakaria as well, gathered in the conference room. Aaron had raised an eyebrow at his Sir’s presence until Rossi admitted that he had brought Patrick in with him. He and Patrick had spent the evening discussing the case and possible options for stopping Gregor and had an idea that they felt might just bring both Gregor and his partner out into the open. Aaron’s stomach dropped at the look that passed between the two men. He wasn’t going to like their plan, he could already feel it.

Rossi settled back in his chair and addressed the team. “We know Gregor and his partner are targeting male dominants and seem to be focusing on the local community now. What we need is a way to draw their attention away from unsuspecting victims and towards targets that know what’s happening and have a way in place to stop them.” He paused and looked over at Patrick before continuing. “Patrick and I have a bit of inside knowledge about Gregor that we can turn to our advantage. He’s a narrow-minded, narcissist who already has a grudge against Patrick and me. He won’t have forgotten it, even after all this time, I can guarantee it. All we need to do is draw his partner’s attention to us so that she’ll draw *his* attention to us, and he’ll happily do the rest.”

“If he’s got such a grudge against you, why hasn’t he come after you both before now?” Emily asked.

“He didn’t have a chance to,” Patrick answered. “David and I, when we play, play at a very exclusive venue where someone like Gregor wouldn’t get past the door.”

“Wouldn’t he smell a trap if you suddenly changed that pattern?” Reid’s eyes studied the two older men intently, clearly attempting to puzzle something out as he spoke. “Even if he’s highly focused to the point of obsession with the two of you, the skill and organization he’s shown in both controlling his submissive and carrying out his attacks, indicates a high level of self-control and discipline.”

“Not necessarily,” Aaron interjected. “Depending on the relationship between himself and his submissive partner, he could simply be drawing her attention to his targets and letting her organize the attacks for him to carry out. Her need to please and secure praise from her Dominant could be strong enough to override any hesitations she may have about the acts themselves. And if she honestly does see herself as a ‘protector’ of fellow submissives, it wouldn’t be difficult for a charismatic person to convince her of the ‘rightness’ of her actions. But, we won’t know until we find her if that’s what’s actually happening in this instance,” he clarified.

Garcia finally spoke up. “I did find a few possible bits of helpful intelligence last night,” she said hesitantly.

“I thought the order to go home was quite clear, Garcia,” Aaron chided gently.

“I did!” she countered. “The FBI files wouldn’t have given me what I was needing anyway,” she said with a grin. “I had to go deeper - the sub-network,” she added conspiratorially. “I’m seen as an honorary member even though I’m a domme. Anyway. Eleven months ago Gregory Duggin, aka Gregor, aka Master G, aka lameslimeballsexname at losercreep dot com, found a new submissive. She fits the description we’ve gotten from several witnesses; shy, mousy, scared of her own shadow most of the time, average build and looks and good at fading into the background. People remember her precisely because she’s so unremarkable and is with a jerk like Duggin who tends to go for busty and flashy if he’s taking them out in public. However, because she’s so shy and keeps to herself, most of my sources don’t know much about her beyond the fact she goes by the name ‘Rose’. Which would be helpful except everyone’s pretty sure that’s just her scene name and do you have any idea how many ‘Rose’s’ there are just in the local BDSM community? But, I worked some of my incredible ninja-master level hack… computer goddess skills,” she corrected with a blush, “and I found four ‘Rose’s’ that fit our submissive’s description who also have some type of connection or history with Mr. Duggin.”

She pressed a few buttons on her keyboard and pictures of four women appeared on the screen. “Contestant number one: Dana ‘Rose’ Green, age 42, divorced mother of one, and former live-in of Mr. Duggin. They were together for several years before she apparently decided she’d had enough of being slapped around and left him. She recently moved back to the area and was asking at one of the clubs if Duggin was still around. There’s no accounting for taste. Contestant number two: Janey ‘Rose’ Radel, age 38, single, trained under Luther and Dianna Horner until Mrs. Horner’s death February of last year. She’d apparently been approached by Mr. Duggin shortly after that and had seemed interested until Mr. Horner warned her away from Duggin. She seems to have left the scene after that and I’m still looking for a recent address. Number three: Patricia ‘Rose’ Nordenthal, age 44, single and wild about ‘bad boys’ according to my sources. She apparently came on hard and heavy to Mr. Duggin last year at a fundraiser her club sponsored. He turned her down flat, but she was persistent enough to manage a one-night stand several weeks later that she bragged about to several club members. She’s been off the grid since then, no one’s seen her and some are worried that Duggin may have done something to her. I’ve got search programs going but nothing so far. And finally, contestant number four and the one most of the subs I talked to seemed to think would be capable of doing violence if crossed: Sally ‘Rose’ Ormiston, age 45, divorced, former military, with a long memory for perceived slights and a mean streak that would make a hard core sadist think twice. She and Duggin met at a play party about a year and a half ago while she was still married. They hit it off and two months later she’d left her husband for Duggin. They’ve been on again, off again lovers and play partners ever since. Last known address was in Rhode Island, but I haven’t been able to verify if it’s current or not.”

Aaron nodded. “Okay. Keep trying to track them down. Morgan, I’d like you and JJ to assist Garcia in her searches. The sooner we can find these women, the sooner we can find Duggin. Emily, I’d like you and Dave to contact Mr. Hammerback and Mr. Nilan and see if any of these are the woman they met the night of their attacks. Reid, I want you to look through the cases again and see if there are any other connections there that we might be missing.” The team members nodded and left, all but Dave and Patrick. Aaron studied them for a long moment before speaking. “I know what you’re thinking, and in the end you may be correct,” he admitted. “Giving the unsub a tempting target is a good idea and would give us a bit of an advantage. However, there are still too many unknown variables for me to be comfortable sending the two of you in as bait, especially since one of you,” he looked sternly at Patrick, “is a civilian.”

Patrick studied Aaron quietly. “I may be a civilian, Aaron,” he admitted, “but I’m head of security for the Leaf, Virginia House. I’ve served in the military and held my own in street brawls since before you’re young Agent Reid was born. I know how to protect myself, I fit your ‘victimology profile’, and I’m known in the community - and by your suspect. You could do worse for bait.”

Aaron sighed. “I know that and I appreciate what you and Dave are suggesting. But I’m not ready to play that card just yet, not when there are other avenues to explore first.” Aaron met his Sir’s eyes easily. “And I’m not doing this simply because of our relationship,” he added. “I’d do the same with any civilian liaison working with my team.”

Patrick nodded his understanding. “Very well. Then what can I do to help?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Aaron didn’t like it, not one bit. Aside from the fact that Patrick was his dominant, the fact he was seriously considering putting a civilian, even a skilled one, in the line of fire like this rankled. But, they were running out of options. Gregor was still off the grid. Hammerback and Nilan had chosen two different women from the line-up, and both were dead ends. Nilan had chosen Sally Ormiston, who was currently incarcerated for manslaughter and had been for the last year and a half. Hammerback had thought that Janey Radel “might” have been the woman he’d seen but was uncertain. Ms. Radel had been found and was living a quiet life in rural Virginia. She hadn’t seen Mr. Duggin since Mr. Horner had warned her of Duggin’s reputation and in fact, she was no longer even in the lifestyle. She did offer them phone number for Mr. Duggin that he’d given her when they’d met but the number was disconnected. However it had given them an address to check that hadn’t been on Garcia’s lists, unfortunately it had been abandoned for quite a while judging by the dust. Dana Green and Patricia Nordenthal still hadn’t been found, though a cousin of Ms. Green had spoken to her in the last month and she’d still been in the local area.

It was Wednesday night and they were no closer to finding Gregor or his accomplice than they had been on Sunday, and they were running out of time. Dave had approached him again about the plan, outlining it further; how they’d meet somewhere that Gregor or his submissive might see them without causing suspicion, how they could make sure to capture the unsub’s attention, and how they’d play things once the unsubs revealed themselves. He had joined Dave and Patrick at the restaurant adjacent to the Leaf for dinner, where they’d talked about the plan and reassured Aaron they had contingency plans on top of contingency plans to keep them both safe if allowed to carry out their sting. Aaron had reluctantly agreed. They’d inform the team Thursday morning and start setting the stage that evening so hopefully the unsub would focus on them Friday night. Aaron wasn’t happy, but he could see no other options if they wanted to stop the unsubs before they killed someone.

They said their goodnights, Dave heading to the Leaf to meet with Mistress and a few others that would assist in the ‘rumor mill’ aspect of the plan. Aaron called home to check in with Jessica and Jack, smiling as he followed Patrick to his apartment. He told his son good night, thanked Jessica once more for staying with Jack before saying good night to her as well. He turned to his Sir with a relaxed smile. “I’m to tell you good night and that you owe a certain young man a story the next time you come over because he did all his chores and ate his vegetables without too much complaining.” He pinned his Sir with a stern look. “You do realize you’ve created a monster, don’t you?”

Patrick wrapped his arms around his boy, pulling him into a tight hug. “Probably. But it’s hard not to give in to that little boy’s brown eyes,” he admitted. “A bit like his da in that respect.”

Aaron chuckled and leaned into Patrick’s secure embrace. “I still don’t like this, Patrick. I don’t like you or Dave being in the line of fire. I’m head of the unit, if anyone should be going in with Dave it should be me.”

Patrick leaned back and looked in Aaron’s eyes. “You know that wouldn’t work, boy. ‘Irish’ is known by too many people now. You couldn’t shift to ‘dominant’ so quickly, people would know and talk. And all it would take is one person saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and it would all be for naught.” He cupped his boy’s cheek. “We’ll be fine,” he reassured. “We’ll have people watching our backs and we know, for the most part, who and what we’re looking for.” He drew Aaron forward for a slow, gentle kiss. “I’m not leaving you, Aaron. I’m helping keep others in the community safe. It’s part of what a Dominant does.”

Aaron reluctantly nodded. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he added petulantly.

Patrick smiled, taking Aaron’s hand and leading him silently through the apartment and into the bedroom. “Strip and lay on the bed,” Patrick ordered, pressing a quick kiss to Aaron’s lips as he left to make sure the apartment was secure.

Aaron didn’t have to be told twice. He needed to reconnect with Patrick before the older man put himself in danger, and he had a feeling Patrick needed it as well. He stripped quickly and efficiently, hanging his suit in the closet with care. He settled onto the bed as he’d been told, the comforter cool against his bare skin. He relaxed, burying his face in Patrick’s pillow and sinking into the calm he found when he was here with Patrick. Here SSA Hotchner was a part of him he stripped off with his suit. Here he was simply Aaron.

He tensed slightly at the sound of footsteps until Patrick’s hand settled against the small of his back. “Just me, Aaron. It’s safe.”

“Sorry,” he breathed into the pillow, flushing at the tension he knew Patrick could feel under his hand.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Aaron,” Patrick reassured. “I know better than to do that to you. I should have said something as I came in.” He forestalled Aaron’s protests with a sharp smack to Aaron’s bare ass. “We’ll get there, boy. Sayers and Huang both said it would take time, and we both know it’s harder for you when you’re deep in a case like this.” He leaned over his boy, kissing his way up Aaron’s spine. “Proud of you, boy,” he breathed against Aaron’s neck. “Very proud.”

Aaron felt a bit of the tension leave his body. He’d been worried about crossing his Sir, about telling him no, but he knew it was what needed to be done. He’d had to be SSA Hotchner first, and he was glad to know Patrick understood that. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice rougher than he’d expected.

Patrick’s hands began to work at the hard knots in Aaron’s back and shoulders. Aaron moaned in pained bliss and tried to relax into the firm touch. Patrick kept up the tender assault, working the tension out of tight muscles, leaving his boy relaxed and pliant on the bed. “I want you, Aaron.”

“You have me, Sir,” came the immediate reply.

Patrick urged Aaron over onto his back, pleased to note his lover’s arousal. “No, a thaisce,” he said gently, his hand cupping Aaron’s face. “Not as your Sir. I want…” he paused, uncertain how to explain his needs to this amazing young man. “I need…” again the words failed him.

Aaron turned his head, kissing Patrick’s palm. “Patrick.” He reached out and caressed the bearded face. “You have me in whatever way you need me,” he reassured. He wrapped his hand around the back of Patrick’s strong neck and drew him down for a long, intense kiss. “Tonight, it’s Aaron and Patrick in this bed, not Sir and Irish.”

“You’re an amazing man, Aaron Hotchner,” Patrick said as he shifted to straddle his young lover. He stretched out over the younger man, chest to chest, his chin in the crook of Aaron’s neck. “Want to feel you in me, Aaron. Want to go in and talk to your team tomorrow feeling tonight each time I shift and move.” As he spoke he reached out and fumbled in the nightstand drawer for the lube. “Are you good with this, a thaisce?”

Aaron nodded, eyes locked on Patrick’s face even as he held his own fingers out for the slick coolness of the lubricant. He rubbed his fingers together, coating them, warming the lube before shifting his Sir, his *lover* forward just enough that he could reach behind Patrick and slowly work his body open. He started slow, enjoying the way Patrick shivered and moved with each thrust and withdrawal.

“You’re so handsome like this,” Aaron purred as he added a second finger, pressing deep into Patrick’s tight heat. “Your eyes are nearly emerald, your pupils blown from pleasure.” He shifted position, earning a disgruntled look from his lover as he withdrew his fingers to do so. He slid them back in quickly, relishing the gasp and moan he received as he did so. “You’re as much mine as I’m yours, aren’t you?” he said, the sudden realization making him pause. He met Patrick’s green eyes and the faint blush on his lover’s face told him he was correct. It was a heady and terrifying feeling. “I won’t abuse that,” he promised, curling his fingers and seeking out Patrick’s prostate. His lover gasped and clenched around his fingers. He thrust slowly, up and into his lover’s body.

Patrick pressed down into each thrust, driving Aaron’s fingers deeper, urging him on. Soon it wasn’t enough for either of them and Patrick pulled Aaron up, into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around Aaron’s shoulders and his legs around Aaron’s hips. He ground against Aaron’s erection, loving the heavy heat of it against his own and the way Aaron shivered at the touch. He took more lube and wrapped his hand around both their cocks as he leaned in for a deep, messy kiss. He savored the way Aaron responded to his touch, his long hands clutching at Patrick’s ass, his hips thrusting up into Patrick’s grip. With a deep chuckle, Patrick released his hold and pressed forward, urging Aaron back down onto the bed. He knelt over his lover with a wicked smile, shifting himself so the tip of Aaron’s now lubed cock rested against his entrance. He eased back without a word, eyes locked with Aaron’s, and let gravity do the work. He sighed as his body opened for his lover and he slid down Aaron’s cock until he rested against Aaron’s hips. Aaron’s hands dug into his skin as they both adjusted to the intensity of the connection between them. They both held perfectly still, just savoring the intimacy of the moment until Patrick smirked and rolled his hips.

Aaron thrust up slightly, earning a delighted sigh and a tantalizing whimper. He repeated the action, a touch harder, and Patrick moaned shifting to rest his hands against Aaron’s chest. They established a hard and fast rhythm, both knowing they wouldn’t last as long as either of them would like. Aaron reached out and grasped his lover’s weeping cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts, overwhelming his Sir, his lover, his Patrick. Patrick’s eyes slid closed and his breathing was punctuated with gasps and moans and curses aimed at his lover’s tormenting control. Aaron thrust harder. He studied Patrick’s face then wrapped his arms around the other man, drawing him down to rest against Aaron’s chest. With a quick and surprisingly strong shift of his body, he flipped them so Patrick was beneath him. Before he could ask if it was okay, Patrick’s legs wrapped around his hips and urged him on.

Aaron complied.

The lovemaking was hot and primal and unlike anything they’d done before. Aaron felt the powerful surge of need building and redoubled his efforts. He shifted his hips, smiling as Patrick gasped and clutched at him. He angled his thrusts to hit Patrick’s prostate on every other thrust, loving the way Patrick’s eyes seemed to lose their focus with each pass. He was so close, so very close. Patrick dragged him down for a kiss, crying out into Aaron’s mouth as the shift in position changed the angle of Aaron’s thrusts yet again.

The older man’s limbs tightened around Aaron’s body. “Please,” he begged, “please”.

Aaron’s thrusts lost their rhythm at the needful whine and Patrick seemed to revel in the abandon. He thrust hard and fast, body aching for release even as he held off for his lover’s pleasure.

Patrick slid a hand between them and stroked his own cock roughly. Aaron pounded into his lover, matching each movement as best he could until Patrick arched up with a yell, his come spilling over his hand to coat both their stomachs. Aaron’s sight grayed out for the briefest of moments as Patrick’s orgasm triggered his own. He spilled himself into his lover’s welcoming body, Patrick’s aftershocks milking the last of Aaron’s orgasm from him as well. Aaron collapsed against Patrick’s chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Patrick petted him gently, his hand caressing up and down Aaron’s sweaty back.

Patrick rolled them so he lay against Aaron’s side. He licked and nuzzled at Aaron’s chest, nipping at the flushed skin. Aaron sighed. Patrick bit down a bit harder, capturing skin between his teeth and sucking. Aaron moaned and shifted beneath him, his cock twitching even as sated as he was. Patrick worried at the skin over Aaron’s heart, leaving a dark and distinct love bite on the warm skin. “Mine,” he breathed over the damp flesh.

“Yours,” Aaron agreed drowsily.

Patrick shifted off his young lover’s body, padding unsteadily to the bathroom to clean up. He returned with a damp washcloth and carefully wiped down his boy. He shifted his drowsing lover until he was under the blankets rather than on top of them and then joined him. He smiled as Aaron immediately shifted position, his head coming to rest on Patrick’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. He combed his fingers though the sweat-damp hair. “Sleep, Aaron,” he urged. “We’re safe.”

Aaron snuggled closer, his arms tight around his lover, and did just that.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

on to part 6 Here