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He needs control. He’s not particularly proud of this fact; it is what it is.
His need to act, to lead and to command has bled into every sector of his life; from his office to his bed.
His dominant tendencies have made a great boss out of him; Haley will not compliment those tendencies when they were applied to his role as a husband.
*
The development of his relationship with Spencer was only a surprise because he’d read him wrong. He did see the apprehension and the fear in his eyes when they were locked in a room with a serial killer who had planned their murder; he missed the arousal.
He never planned on acting on his attraction towards Reid: he was younger; he was a subordinate; he couldn’t give what Aaron needed it.
But two drinks in after the adrenaline rush of that fateful evening, the deep hurt of recognizing the failure of his marriage and being the focus of someone so bright made him, uncharacteristically, plan to throw caution to the wind.
*
When he and Haley got together they were young and naïve and inexperienced; they figured it out what love and sex meant together.
The thrill of sneaking kisses and touches between classes and responsibilities, between college and life brought them to a few years of marriage bliss. At some point, they had been as happy as any couple could be.
It took him a long time to even realize that something might be missing, that the sex wasn’t as satisfying as it used to be, that he craved more.
*
At the end of a hellish case and too much paperwork, he goes knocking at Reid’s door. He knows that he’s welcomed, he wouldn’t have come otherwise.
Reid greets him with a gasp, lips parted and eyes wild.
Aaron wants to grab him by his hair, kiss him breathless and order him to his knees; instead, he walks in, not bothering to look around, his stare firmly on Reid’s face.
He could make the first move but he waits, his name is whispered like a prayer and he takes a stabilizing breath. And like he calculated Spencer breaks first, he braces himself for the impact and kisses him with everything he’s got. The reality will feed his fantasies and that will have to be enough.
*
At first, he was horrified.
He would be on top and then, suddenly, Haley would change positions, mischievousness on her face, while she took over the rhythm, the control. She would trap his wrists as if she could really overpower him, mocking his reluctant surrender.
He would grit his teeth, knowing, somehow, that she deserved some kind of punishment for misunderstanding their roles; he would think about her on her hands and knees, the punishment coming through a few slaps on her ass and a rougher fuck.
He would lose himself in his mind and come with her name on his lips asking forgiveness for his thoughts and begging her to read them.
*
How could he think like that? How could he allow these awful thoughts to permeate his mind?
He imagines himself sitting in an interrogation room, the hot lights making him sweat, his tie suffocating him as he tries not to squirm, knowing that there are eyes on him through the glass. He imagines himself as an UNSUB, his team analyzing him, studying his past and trying to figure out where he went wrong, when he became one of the monsters they chase, how he turned out to be a sexual sadist.
On those nights, the sweat is cold as he wakes up with a swallowed cry in his throat.
*
Spencer is more than he could’ve had imagined.
His bashfulness, his uncertainty, his insecurity makes him want. He wants to guide him, to teach him, to show him what bodies are capable of, how giving up control can be rewarding, how pain can amplify the pleasure.
He doesn’t dare bring any of this up; he enjoys what he has and hopes that his body language won’t betray him. Soon enough, he finds out that maybe he doesn't have to worry.
*
He tried with Haley. On the last months of their marriage, he calculated that not much could make the situation worse.
They would get into bed and he would gauge her interest. If she was receptive, he would be a little bit more forceful than usual. He would bite her collarbone and leave a mark underneath her bellybutton; he would pull her hair and make her come twice before even thinking about his own orgasm.
Sometimes she would go along with it, she would put up with his self-indulgence; she would chastise him with a sigh and he would feel improper. But sometimes she wouldn’t have the patience or the willingness to do nothing, she would want to reciprocate and get it over with, then he would be the one sighing, and one way or the other the night ended with a bittersweet taste in their mouths.
*
Spencer always wants to be underneath him, says that the weight of his body makes him feel safe and grounded, that sometimes sex can be overwhelming for him and that having his partner as close as possible makes him present, that the closeness doesn’t let him get lost on his thoughts.
After he explains that to Aaron they fuck with a previously unreached intensity. Spencer on his stomach, taking everything he can give him, making the sweetest sounds, all the words having escaped from him. The physical sensations and the emotional release clouds his judgment and he can’t quite help himself; he bites Spencer, right at the junction between neck and shoulder. He bites hard.
When he feels Spencer coming around him with a choked curse on his tongue, Aaron redoubles his efforts and tumbles into his own orgasm as he watches the redness that starts to bloom in the place where his teeth had just been.
He has half a mind to let the guilt consume him, but just when he starts to panic Spencer huffs a laugh, “Nice touch…”
*
Rationally, he knows that his desires don’t make him a monster. He has researched the subject and the lifestyle to exhaustion. He knows that wanting to control what and how the sexual act with his partners go won’t make him an UNSUB.
Still, he can’t hinder the feeling of disgust that comes up when all he wants is to mark someone, is to leave his presence known, is to make sure that they won’t forget him; when all he wants is someone on their knees at his disposition, begging for his attention, for his cock, at his mercy.
Why can’t he be fully satisfied unless he’s exerting his control, his power on someone else?
*
This time, the knock is on his door.
He opens it, surprised that Spencer took that much of a chance; simultaneously wondering if maybe he’s been too transparent on his need for him.
Spencer kisses him with desperation; the whole case Aaron saw his struggle to maintain professionalism, when the UNSUB’s stressor hit a little too close to home.
He backs Spencer up against the door, no space between their bodies as Aaron seizes his wrists in his hands; Spencer may have started it but he’s the one who’s going to finish it.
The moans and whimpers are an arousing symphony and he wants more. He lets go of Spencer’s lips, turning his focus to his neck. He’s careful to not leave permanent marks in such a visible place, even if he wants the opposite.
He grabs both of Spencer’s wrists in one hand so he can sink his fingers into his hair, pulling it, and bending his neck backwards for more space. He wants more.
“Yes, yes, yes… Do whatever you want to me.”
The words make him freeze. He steps back, ignoring Spencer’s whine. It’s too much.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
His harsh tone brings seriousness to Spencer’s demeanor and he steps closer, away from the door, hand caressing his cheek.
“I mean it, I mean them. I see you, Aaron. Take me.”
Spencer drops down to his knees as soon as his tentative words reach Aaron ears. His first instinct is denial, but he knows that Spencer wouldn’t be saying these things in vain; he knows better than underestimate the conclusions that he, a literal genius, came to. So he falls into his natural role.
He grabs Spencer by his nape, makes sure they are looking at each other, that they are understanding each other.
“If you want to stop, say it and I will.”
“I know, but I won’t. I trust you.”
And what else can he do? He dives in.