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“This building has three exists; North, South and West. You’re here to target a woman, but you don’t want to attract attention.”
“Well, standing in the middle, gawking at passing women, would certainly attract attention. Like you’re doing now.”
Reid’s body should be illegal, Aaron thinks.
His frame is so slight and lean; angular in a way that has no right being as attractive as it is, and yet fills Aaron with a burning desire every time he looks at the younger man with any intensity for more than a minute.
There’s no implication of any muscles beneath the cardigans and sweater vests he wears usually, but the shirt he wears today is fitted, tapering in at the sides and hugging his shoulders in the most delectable way.
Indeed, as he bends round, twisting to his side to catch the eyes of the woman walking past, to give her a small, friendly smile, Aaron watches, transfixed, as the blue cotton is pulled taught against the skin underneath, wrapping itself around the outline of his ribs, the stretch of his shoulders as he straightens back up, and the tightness of his abdominal muscles that are usually hidden entirely from view.
“What was that?”
Reid's voice breaks him from his momentary stupor, and he looks sharply across at the younger man who's now staring back at both him and Prentiss, a confused, hesitant smile playing on the corner of his lips.
Instead of answering, he levels a glare at the other man, lips pulled into a tight line that only seems to confuse his young agent more, whilst Emily jeers in the background.
“Just like that, IQ of 187 is slashed to 60.”
Get it together, Hotchner.
Spencer still looks utterly lost, but Aaron can see the gears turning already, rapidly playing back all that had happened around him in the last few moments that his conscious brain had failed to pick up on, but that he might have subconsciously registered.
It will only take him seconds, if he did in fact hear what had been said, for him to come to the realisation, and Aaron can’t be facing him when he does. Turning on his heel, he pivots himself away from Spencer just as the first glimpse of dawning realisation crosses his face, and Aaron stalks away as fast as his professional pace will allow him to walk.
He can see Spencer looking around himself in his peripheral vision, glancing around the station and trying to focus on something, anything else, but Aaron’s already pushing the situation down all the way into his shoes, well out of his mind, to be dealt with later.
They have a case to work, after all.
He’s off his game.
Letting their unsub run was a decision he doesn’t even remember consciously making, and though he’d been able to blag it off as a paramount concern for Penny’s safety and survival, he knows Dave hadn’t bought it for a second.
He should have expected nothing less from his friend, especially when there was no need for both of them to remain with Penny, and he was already on Rhett’s heels. Expecting Dave to believe that he, what? That he didn’t trust Dave to remove a plastic bag from Penny Hanley’s head and call for an ambulance? It’s a frankly insulting thought to even consider, let alone actually voice to his friend.
So, no. The fault of this lies solely at Aaron’s feet, and it’s a wonder that it’s only been Dave to pick up on the fact that he’s not performing well today.
Revealing Garcia’s secret, their very own Penny, in front of everyone and against her direct wishes, her requested wishes, was unforgivable of him, and though she’d humoured him by accepting his apology, he knows it will take longer to earn back all of her trust.
Aaron supposes he should be grateful for the small mercies he’d been gifted; like Penny being found alive, and his arousal staying carefully hidden behind the fabric of his suit trousers.
All of this, all these minimal screw ups, during a case where they got lucky and at a time when their family unit needs everyone to be kind, have Aaron feeling fairly shit as they all trail one by one into the hotel they’d booked for the week. They’ll fly home tomorrow, now that the case is over, but for tonight, everyone is granted a small respite of down time.
With Garcia being here now, they’re one room short, and though he’d usually take one for the team and room with Rossi for the night, allowing the younger members their own space to decompress in, the look Dave had given him before he’d even opened his mouth had told him, in no uncertain terms, that that option was out of the question for tonight.
Whilst he’s sure their self-proclaimed tech goddess will be spending the majority of her evening in Morgan’s room already, asking her to room with him for the entirety of the night feels like it would be overstepping some invisible line in the sand. That, combined with his shortsighted bluntness earlier, leaves that option entirely off the table too.
That leaves him with the option of asking Morgan and Reid to room together, but he doubts Reid would be particularly happy with the prospect of having to spend his downtime in the company of both Morgan and Garcia, especially after the case they’ve just had, and all of the other combinations he can think of leave someone with consequences that, whilst he’s sure they would agree to without question, no one would choose.
All combinations come with a predicament for at least one person.
All except one.
Well, all except one for everyone but him.
Himself and Reid rooming together would most definitely cause a certain predicament for Aaron, but it’s the least impactful to the rest of his team, and after the case they’ve had, not to mention how many oversights of his own they’ve so kindly overlooked, he owes it to the rest of them that their night be as restful as possible.
He'll just have to catch up on sleep on the flight back tomorrow.
Reid agrees to sharing a room with him in exactly the way he’d expected; all small, shy smiles and enthusiastic consent, as though he can sense Hotch’s discomfort and need to have everyone be on the same wavelength, for everyone to have the same level of knowledge that Aaron is absolutely not only rooming with Spencer because of his stupid infatuation and inappropriate desires, and actually because he’s trying to be as considerate as possible to everyone on his team.
If anything, he’s being the least considerate to himself.
After all, he’s hardly going to take care of his little problem now, when the object of his affliction is going to be in a bed six feet from his.
Reid takes the first shower once they get into their room, which suits Aaron just fine.
He spends a brief minute wondering whether the echo of the fan and the running water in the en-suite would be enough drown out the sound of skin on skin, and, if it would, whether he would be able to bite his tongue hard enough to keep any other sounds firmly inside his throat.
He spends the next ten minutes of Spencer’s shower hating himself for even entertaining the thought of rubbing one out with his hand down the front of his pants like a horny teenager whilst Spencer, his subordinate, is in the next room.
When Reid returns to their shared room, hair still wet from his shower but already dressed in his pyjamas, Aaron hasn’t even moved from where he stopped to set his bag down. His feet may as well be rooted to the floor, and watching Spencer bend over to pick up his dropped towel from the floor isn’t helping matters at all.
“You not showering?”
Aaron’s head snaps up from where he’d been staring, fixated, on the curve of Reid’s spine, the small sliver of skin showing where his pyjama shirt had rucked up as he’d bent over.
“I, uh, I’m…”
He faulters, trailing off as Reid’s eyes lock onto his.
Aaron feels stripped bare where he stands, as though the man behind the gaze being directed at him can see straight through him, every hidden desire and inappropriate thought laid out for Reid’s inspection.
After a moment of being studied, Reid nods purposefully downwards, towards Aaron’s waist, and Aaron has no choice but to follow his gaze, cheeks flaming before he’s even seen the full extent of what’s on show.
There’s nothing he can say, no defence he can give that will stand up to any scrutiny, but he tries anyway.
He opens his mouth, a hundred explanations and excuses on the tip of his tongue, desperate for Reid to understand this situation as anything other than what it really, is, but the younger man beats him to it.
“You want that taken care of?”
Aaron definitely misheard him. Absolutely, one hundred percent assuredly, misheard the words that just came from Spencer Reid’s lips. That, or, at the very least, misinterpreted them.
There is no way on earth that Spencer Reid is offering to deal with Aaron Hotchner’s woefully inappropriate erection.
Except… as he looks back up at the other man, finally managing to drag his shameful gaze up from the blazingly obvious tent in the front of his trousers, Aaron finally realises what that shy look from before had actually been about.
He wasn’t shy about sharing a room. He’s shy about… me?
“Reid,” he begins, but the words get stuck in his throat, nothing but air coming out from between his parted lips as he stares back at the young agent opposite him. Spencer, to his credit, is somehow managing to remain entirely unaffected by the events currently unfolding; at least, to the untrained eye, that is.
To Aaron, though, there’s a telltale twitch in the way the corner of his mouth is curled up, the relaxed smile not quite able to hide the nervousness that Reid is clearly trying to supress.
So, that would suggest… that Aaron really did both hear and interpret his subordinate’s words correctly.
“Oh. Oh! That’s, no. No, it’s okay, I’ll just…”
The words feel pointless even as they leave his lips. Here he is, having quite possibly been gifted the very thing he’s been dreaming of, the very thing he’s been yearning for, for months now, and he’s throwing it all away.
Worse than that, he’s turning Spencer away.
Luckily for Aaron, Spencer Reid has always been wise beyond his years.
“Are you sure?” he sounds so confident; so much more confident than Aaron had expected, and despite his better judgement, Aaron can’t make himself say that he is. “’Cause it looks to me like… you might want a hand?”
It’s the cockiest he’s heard Reid sound in a long time, and in that moment, the pieces all fall into place for Aaron.
“You little shit.”
Spencer’s grinning at him, coy and innocent, looking up at Aaron from under long, delicate eyelashes. The smugness behind the smile tells him everything he needs to know, but Spencer does at least have the decency to look the slightest bit guilty; like a dog that’s been caught at the end of a trail of feathers surrounded by shredded pillows.
“You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you.”
It’s not a question, but Spencer answers it all the same, shrugging his shoulders innocently as he takes a few steps around the end of the twin beds, until he’s standing directly in front of Aaron.
“I had my suspicions, but I didn’t know for sure until I saw how you were looking at me in the train station,” he pauses for a second, and Aaron is so busy processing everything that’s happened in the last few minutes, everything that is still happening, he almost misses the quiet confession that comes after. “I needed to be sure.”
It’s perhaps the most important thing he’s ever heard Spencer say.
“Are you sure now?” he asks slowly, quietly, almost as quiet a Spencer’s words had been, but with slightly less hesitation. He’s finding his feet again now, bolstered by Spencer’s admission, and the growing knowledge that maybe, his hidden attraction hasn’t actually been hidden all that well.
He doesn’t dare let himself hope yet that it might not be one-sided.
Spencer seems to consider this question for a moment, then nods, looking down briefly before back up at Aaron again, back to looking up from underneath those long, delicate, ridiculously beautiful eyelashes.
“Almost.”
He kisses Aaron before the older man has time to react, and apart from the shock he feels that he hadn’t anticipated that particular move, that perhaps his reaction times really are slowing down as he gets older, he’s nothing short of delighted by the action.
Maybe he really is just that distracted around Spencer Reid.
Hands are hovering tentatively around his face, and Aaron guides them blindly to his cheeks, feeling the warmth and softness of Spencer’s palms and fingers as they trace along the line of his chin and cup the stubble across his jaw.
There’s nothing but white hot pleasure surging through his body, flooding all of his veins and making its way directly into his heart, warming him from the inside out with the heat of a thousand fires.
He kisses back hungrily, desperately, and finds Spencer reciprocating with more than just his lips. The pressure against the front of his trousers takes him by surprise, but he responds before Spencer can doubt himself, finding the younger man’s ass with his hands and pulling him closer, swallowing down the moans he feels Spencer breathing into his mouth.
Spencer’s rutting against him more desperately now, and there’s a hand between their bodies, fingers fiddling earnestly with his belt buckle, and Aaron breaks the kiss.
“Are… are you sure?” he asks, voice breaking as he heaves air into his lungs, and Spencer nods, eyes darker than Aaron’s ever seen on any person ever, and closes the gap between them again.
Somehow, Aaron manages to stumble them both backwards a few paces until the back of Spencer’s knees hit the bed nearest to them. Spencer breaks the kiss just long enough to yank his freshly put on pyjama shirt over his head and shimmy out of his pyjamas pants, and Aaron finds himself deeply impressed that he’s only seconds behind Spencer in getting out of his full suit.
He climbs onto the bed, crawls over to lay atop Spencer, and hovers just above him on, propped up on his elbows.
“Are you absolutely-?”
“Shut up, Aaron.”
The sound of his first name being spoken from those lips, in that voice, sends shivers down Aaron’s spine, and he nods, reaching blindly over the edge of the bed until his fingers brush against the side of his go bag. He can feels Spencer’s eyes on him; watching him, calculating what he’s doing, and he sees from the corner of his left eye the moment Spencer realises what he’s doing.
“You carry lube and condoms in your ready bag?”
Aaron shoots him a look that Spencer intentionally misses, and instead takes the bottle of unflavoured lube that is being held out to him. He’s wanted this for so long, dreamt of this moment for so many months, and now that it’s finally happening, he feels almost paralysed with excitement.
Uncapping the bottle of lube with trembling fingers, Spencer reaches down between his own legs and begins prepping himself, eyes fluttering closed as he forces himself to relax into the moment, to let his mind wander to this very fantasy that he’s played out over and over.
It’s not a fantasy now, though.
Aaron doesn’t rush him, just as he never has in any of the times Spencer’s imagined this moment, and by the time he’s finished prepping himself, he’s writhing on the bed underneath the older man, barely able to hand the bottle of lube back with how much his fingers are shaking.
It takes all of his willpower to force his eyes open, but he’s not going to miss seeing the moment the man he’s been dreaming of for so many months now slicks up his rock hard cock, lines himself up with Spencer, and sinks in.
He can barely choke out the moans that rise in his throat, throwing his head back against the pillow and feeling every inch, every millimetre of Aaron as he slowly eases in, taking his time and letting Spencer get accustomed to the feeling as gradually as he needs it.
By the time he’s all the way in, Aaron’s breathing hard; his panting breaths matched almost exactly in time with Spencer’s desperate, high-pitched moans. He waits a moment, lets Spencer adjust, then experimentally rocks his hips forwards.
Spencer’s whole body jolts, and the cry he lets out is almost animalistic.
“Okay?” Aaron asks, and Spencer opens his eyes fully to see the other man hovering just above his face, and it takes everything Spencer has to respond verbally instead of just nodding his head.
“Yes. Yes, please. Don’t stop.”
Aaron doesn’t waste any time after that, and the second thrust of his hips has Spencer’s eyes closing again against his will as the pleasure overtakes him.
They continue on like this for what could be minutes or seconds, or anything in between, with Aaron rocking his hips forwards and panting into the space between them, and Spencer moaning on every forward thrust and drawing in heaving breaths on every backward pull.
It’s not until Aaron changes the angle of his hips, hitting the spot inside Spencer that he himself only rarely manages to reach, that Spencer’s eye fly open, hands scrabbling against Aaron’s back as he digs his fingers into the older man’s shoulder blades, desperate for something to anchor himself with.
Aaron grunts above him, the stinging pain of Spencer’s fingernails breaking the skin of his shoulders sending shivers of pain-induced pleasure coursing through him, and it’s not much longer before his thrusts begin to lose their rhythm. He’d thought, hoped, that he’d have longer; that after so much time spent dreaming of this moment, he’d be able to bask in it forever. But he’s already losing the battle of holding out on his orgasm, and when he blinks his eyes back into focus, Spencer’s writhing underneath him indicates that the younger man isn’t going to be far behind him.
Propping himself up on one elbow, Aaron reaches down between their bodies and grasps Spencer’s cock, dripping with precum and sweat, wrapping his fingers around it and doing his best to twist his wrist in time with his thrusts.
Two, three, four more times and the cock in his hand twitches, more precum spilling from the head before Spencer’s orgasm overtakes him, and it’s less than ten seconds later that Aaron’s own crashes into him, like a tidal wave of heat and pleasure, bringing him even closer to Spencer as he rides the high.
For a while, there’s nothing but heavy breathing; gasping breaths punctuating the otherwise silent hotel room around them, and their own heartbeats hammering loudly in their ears. Finally, Spencer shivers beneath him, overstimulation quickly becoming too much to bear, and only then does Aaron pulls out.
He spends a moment tying off the condom, trying to get his thoughts back in order, to comprehend exactly what has just happened, exactly what has just taken place.
He’s just fucked his colleague.
He’s just fucked his subordinate team member.
More than that, he’s just had sex with Spencer Reid; the man he’s been fantasising about sleeping with, and perhaps even more, for the better part of the last twelve months. And now… now it’s happened, and Aaron realises he doesn’t quite know what comes next.
What’s the protocol for an impromptu one night stand with the person of your dreams, who also happens to work for you on your close-knit team, who you will continue to see every single day?
Aaron thinks maybe he should just hand his resignation letter in to Strauss the moment they land back in Virginia.
But then, just as his spiralling thoughts are beginning to fully consume him, and Aaron’s mentally writing himself up for all the fraternization rules he’s just broken, a quiet voice from the bed behind him breaks through his internal monologue.
“You know, before you write this off as a one-time thing and start the process of firing yourself, maybe you should make sure that your partner feels the same way.”
Aaron’s head snaps up, and the look he gives Spencer is a mixture of surprise and confusion, with a telltale hint of hopefulness creeping in at the edges. There’s a beat of silence, and then-
“Partner?”
Spencer grins, rolling his head from side to side and stretching out some of the knots that the day events have created in his neck and upper back.
“Well, personally, I’ve always hated the term ‘boyfriend’ when I’ve been with another man.” He says it simply, like he hasn’t just rocked Aaron’s entire world, and there’s another moment of silence, during which Spencer levels his own gaze back, some of the cockiness from before slipping back into his expression, but he’s still far too fucked out and exhausted to do much more than express the cheeky smugness in his smile, and the way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he watches Aaron process the words.
“Spencer. Are you saying you would like… for me and you to… be together?” Aaron asks slowly, sounding out each word in his head before he says them out loud, convinced at this point that he absolutely must be dreaming.
Or maybe he’s been drugged.
Or hit over the head.
But Spencer just grins wider at him, pushing himself up on tired, shaky arms until he can wrap himself around Aaron’s sitting body, practically crawling into the other man’s lap and burying his head in the warm space between Aaron’s neck and shoulder.
“If you would be amenable to that,” he mumbles, kissing the skin beneath his lips before he pulls back to look up at Aaron, who’s having several coronaries at this point.
“And we can wait, of course, to tell the team. I’d certainly like you to keep you to myself for a bit, before everyone else has to find out. And if you’re worried about our age difference, unless that’s a problem for you personally, I really don’t mind. I know you’re not going to take advantage of me just because you’re older, and my boss, and I can handle all the red tape of the bureau fraternization rules. I used to get around all the legalities of being a minor looking after my mom, and I can-”
“Your turn to shut up,” Aaron says, turning his head and capturing Spencer’s lips between his own, swallowing down any further ramblings the younger man might have been about to come out with.
Of all the ways this day could have ended, this was never a possibility that Aaron would ever have imagined, let alone considered actually happening. But it did, and it was still happening, and as Spencer curls further into him, seeking out the warmth of Aaron’s body as the sweat begins to cool on his skin, Aaron allows himself a moment to bask in the incredible feeling of having Spencer Reid in his lap, in his arms, like this.
And now, apparently, in his life like this, too.