Escape and Burn [FanFic]
Title: Escape and Burn
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Hotch/Reid, Reid/Ethan
Rating: FRAO
Summary: Reid looks for a brief escape from his doubts while Hotch finds a reason to doubt his current methods of escape.
Notes: This is AU but there are Season 5 spoilers!! Piece 17 of my "Breaking the Bonds" series that, once again, follows after the last piece. There's cursing, references to child abuse and mental illness, aggressive sex between men and, as always, angst. (Ethan was Reid's friend from Season 2's "Jones".) This piece is also set up a little differently, it switches between what's happening with Reid and what's happening with Hotch, so...yeah...just a head's up, haha!
Hotch’s hurt and rage carried him to his car faster than he thought possible. Then it froze him in the car as he warred with the idea of heading back up. Of putting Reid in his place with words and fists…mouth and hands. He acknowledged he had problems, that he needed help, and now Reid was refusing him? Who was he to refuse his superior? Who the fuck was Spencer Reid to tell Aaron Hotchner about control?!
The man slipped the key in the ignition then paused and gripped the wheel. He hated Reid. He hated that Reid seemed to be picking his old Vegas friend over him. That Spencer trusted and protected some fuck-friend over his own boss.
He felt the sting of tears.
What the hell was wrong with him? What did he care? Reid wasn’t family, he wasn’t Rossi or Gideon or anyone Hotch ever saw as a mentor. Spencer Reid was just a kid. A kid who’d needed him to bypass his physicals, to pass his firearm’s qualifications, and to save his ass on more than a few occasions.
Aaron hit the steering wheel once, twice, then a third time. The tears slipped in the act, but Hotch began to feel a touch better. Calmed enough to realize it wasn’t Spencer he was truly cross with.
It was that fuck-buddy of Spencer’s Aaron really hated. Ethan. Why was some heroin-addict not even Reid deemed important enough to mention before the Danlin case allowed to comment on all this? Why was he so interested, invested, in what occurred between one Aaron Hotchner and one Spencer Reid? Who was this fuck-up to tell a federal agent about his life?
The rage twisted and burned in Hotch’s gut, pounded in his head, and, for a moment, he thought he might vomit it up. He didn’t. He struck the steering wheel once more before turning to pound his fist into his own seat.
***
Ethan watched from the couch as Reid paced back and forth before him. He noted his friend’s non-stop scratching at his own arm. Spencer had done this before tests and presentations in school, throughout his withdrawals, and when his cravings were at an all time high on the first night Ethan came to Virginia. Everyone had their stress-ticks, Spencer’s had always been some kind of scratching.
Though sometimes this was all Reid needed, just to be watched. If he knew he was being watched than he could control the urge for the drugs. His addiction had always been a relatively private issue; he wouldn’t shoot up in front of others. He doubted he really even could. Ethan once jokingly suggested it came from the younger man’s general social awkwardness…Reid imagined Ethan wasn’t that far off.
“Spencer, you need to relax. You’re gonna give yourself a migraine.”
“No I’m not.”
“Alright, then you’re gonna give me a migraine.”
Reid didn’t even pause as he gave his best not-amused look to his old friend. Ethan just smiled back softly.
“I just, um, I can’t stop thinking about, you know, what happened. I mean, uh….” He finally stopped pacing in front of Ethan. Only his hand moved, digging nails where needles had. “I was…I was the only person he had.”
“Then he needs to get more people.”
“I know, I just…” Reid began to pace once again.
“What about that Rossi fella? Ya said they were close.”
“He wouldn’t admit he had a problem to Rossi.”
Ethan nodded a touch, then looked up at Spencer. “That why you threatened to tell him?”
“Rossi?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.” Reid nodded a little.
“Ya know, Rossi might already know.”
“If he does he’s not doing anything about it.”
“Maybe he knows Hotch’s gotta fall on his face first?”
“Maybe.”
***
Aaron got in a handful hits before his phone rang. He relaxed on the back of the cushioned seat, took a few deep breaths, then pulled the cell from his jacket pocket to view the caller ID. CAPT USA. It was the most recent coding for Jessie, Jack had picked it…Jack always picked it.
Another deep breath and Aaron answered. “Hello?”
“Hi daddy!” The boy was downright giggly as he cheered over the phone.
“Hey buddy,” Hotch straightened up more in the car as if nervous his son would somehow sense his slump. “Are you having fun at Auntie Jessie’s?”
“Daddy, when you gonna pick me up?”
“What’s wrong?” Hotch started his car.
“Nothing,” the boy replied in that sing-song way children his age do. “I miss you, Daddy, come an’ get me. Please.”
Hotch smiled at the words. Seeing Jack was exactly what he needed. His son’s love was the only constant in his life now, maybe the last one he’d ever get again. “Okay, Jack. Can you put Auntie Jessie on?”
“Okay!”
Hotch took the exchange time to switch his phone to hands-free and start to drive out of the parking garage. He was out onto the street by the time Jessica had the phone.
“Aaron? Hello?”
“Hey, what’s going on? Is everything okay?” Because maybe Jack didn’t want to worry him.
Jessie gave a small sigh of a laugh, Hotch always worried. Of course she would never blame him, not ever, but sometimes it was hard. Hard to mourn her sister properly when she immediately had to take the amazing woman’s place. Hard to keep a federal agent’s life running smoothly and still have her own. “Yeah, it’s fine, Jack’s just a little impatient today. Woke me up at five this morning he was so excited. If you’re busy it’s fine, a little time at the park and he’ll forget…maybe.” She laughed a touch again. Jack would not forget.
“No, no, it’s fine, I’m already on my way.” Hotch replied as he cleared his throat some.
***
Ethan watched as his friend’s scratching turned almost vicious, punishing.
“I’ve seen the needle and the damage done,” the man edged up on the couch, “a little part of it in everyone.”
It was a game they used to play together as boys. A game to entertain and distract, a game to pass time when Ethan helped Spencer out in driving him and his mother to their doctors’ appointments, and a game that kept Ethan’s mind off the latest broken bone or busted lip courtesy his parents that he had to heal from.
“Neil Young’s ‘Needle and the Damage Done’.” Reid gave the source as his hand paused its assault on his arm. Then he gave a barely perceptible smile. “O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains. That we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts.”
“William Shakespeare’s Othello.” Ethan smiled as he offered Reid his hand.
Reid took it and finally settled beside the other on the couch. For a while he was silent, his head fell back and it seemed he was finally relaxed. Then the scene between Hotch and him began to play over and over again. He began to scratch his arm once more, dug his nails through cloth and into skin. He couldn’t help it; he couldn’t find peace as he carefully dissected each word and gesture. Reid debated on whether or not he’d done the right thing and the cravings followed behind like a nagging schoolyard bully.
Ethan’s hand moved gently, with restrained strength, to Reid’s wrist and grabbed hold. “Stop,” Ethan said as his other hand joined the union and turned Reid’s palm up easily. Ethan kissed the palm.
Spencer’s fingers twitched excitedly under the heat of the other man’s breath.
***
Aaron Hotchner had to pull over three separate times to deal with his nausea. His head throbbed and by the time he arrived at Jessie’s house his clothes were dampened slightly with sweat.
He pulled into the drive beside Jessie’s car, turned off the engine, and looked at himself in the rearview. For the first time he doubted he could pull off the idea that nothing was wrong with him…he looked like shit. Sunglasses on, breath-mint in the mouth, and a quick straightening of the clothes was the best he could do.
He hit the doorbell from the front stoop and listened for activities from inside. The patter of fast, excited, feet mixed in with footfalls that are more calmly paced. The man began to smile when he heard the voice of his son calling out in excitement.
“Daddy’s here! Daddy’s here!”
Jack would save him. He would save him the way all children save their parents, unknowingly through their own innocent love.
The door opened and Hotch immediately lifted his son up into a hug.
***
In that first touch Reid felt safer, in the first word he was calmer, and in the first kiss he remembered exactly why Ethan was always so hard to resist.
“Ethan.”
“Mmm?” Another kiss, this one to his cheek.
Reid shivered a little. “Should we be doing this?”
“Don’t know.” Dissecting moral ambiguity was never Ethan’s strong suit…especially if his own desires were at stake. Spencer had, both angrily and amusedly, referred to Ethan as a walking id. “Do you want to?”
It was an unfair question to ask when hands were already slipping under shirts to tease the skin of ones hips, waist, and stomach. But then Ethan never completely played fair when he really wanted something.
“Yes…” Reid breathed low, “no…maybe…I don’t know.” His body certainly did, more and more with each kiss and touch even as he knew, deep down, this would only be a temporary distraction.
“Yes,” Ethan’s lips quirked into Reid’s neck, then pulled back the slightest to nip. “No,” the mouth scowled in feigned seriousness as it worked up to Reid’s now lax jaw. The lips stopped at Reid’s ear, huffed with the utmost care, already in synch with the other man. “Maybe so.”
***
Aaron carried his son to the disaster area known as Jessie’s kitchen. Like when they attempted to bake at home Jack had accomplished getting flour, egg, milk, and almost every form of decoration known to man over the table.
“We made cupcakes!” Jack announced proudly. “Spring cupcakes.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, we got green and pink and blue ones,” Jack began to list all the different colors of frosting and sprinkles he’d used.
Hotch set his son on a chair before he looked to Jessie. “Do you need help cleaning?”
Jessie waved off the offer and shook her head as she did a quick wipe down of the table. “Nope, I’m good, Aaron. Just sit yourself down and I’ll bring you both a cupcake in a minute.”
***
Reid turned his head and found Ethan’s mouth with demanding aggression. It wasn’t possessive like Hotch’s had been to his the night before, but it was still demanding. If he was going to do this he would do it under his terms and for his reasons. He’d wronged Hotch and would let Ethan dole out the punishment. Ethan wouldn’t mind. Not really.
“Make it hurt.” Reid finally broke their lips’ union, took advantage and stripped himself and Ethan of shirts.
Ethan didn’t ask because he knew. That’s the thing with having known someone since childhood, been with them almost since puberty…you just knew.
He knew to push Reid back into the couch and jerk the younger man’s long, curled, hair back until his neck was fully exposed. Teeth brushed, then bared down. Spencer gasped, dug nails into Ethan’s back. The first marks of the night, not the last.
***
Jessie had asked Hotch if he was okay at least five times, by the fourth the man almost snapped at her. She wasn’t like Haley who, for the most part, let things slip by under one of Hotch’s all too common “I’m fines”. Jessie kept at Hotch until he switched his story to confessing he was a little under the weather. Her look said she didn’t believe that either, but she wasn’t going to fight him on it.
“If you get called in, just call ahead so I can be sure to be here when you drop Jack off,” Jessie reminded her former brother-in-law as the man packed his son into the car.
“I will.” Hotch double checked Jack’s booster seat, then turned and smiled at Jessie. “Thank you again, for everything.” He could not possibly tell her that enough. Not ever.
“It’s not a problem Aaron, really. You’re family, I’d do anything for you and Jack, you know that.”
Hotch smiled under his sunglasses, through his pounding head and churning stomach. He would’ve hugged her but he couldn’t imagine how he might smell with his sickness and sans his standard shower. Instead he just waved, got in, and began to drive home fighting his continual discomfort along the way.
“Daddy?” his son called from the back seat.
“What is it buddy?”
“Can we nap at home?”
Hotch smiled a little at the odd question. “Are you tired?”
“No.”
“Then why do you want to nap?” Hotch’s son was never one to take a nap voluntarily.
“Cause, um,” Jack shifted some and tried to lean forward, “Cause you look tired,.”
“I look tired?” Aaron glimpsed his son in the rearview and saw nothing but love and trust…and worry.
“Yeah, I think you need a nap.” Hotch had always offered to nap with his son if it would get the boy down easier, the boy was doing the same for him now.
Ethan’s words began to play back in the agent’s head If you knew about your parents and I knew about mine then, odds are, Jack’ll know about his…if you don’t pull your shit together your son could end up with these same problems. Ethan was right. God Hotch fucking hated that guy.
“Then we’ll take a nap when he get home.” Aaron promised his son even as he felt the sting of Ethan’s prediction linger.
***
Reid shoved Ethan’s pants and boxers down roughly in favor of easy access that he quickly took full advantage of. His friend wasn’t the only one who didn’t play fair and Spencer knew exactly what the man liked.
“Where?” The word was little more than a growl as the other man thrusted up into Reid’s grip. It was tight, made Ethan think of what it was like being inside Reid…still his favorite place and the only person that felt like home.
“Floor.”
Ethan tugged and tore at the remainders of Spencer’s clothes, tossed them to the side with his and laid his body directly, fully, over that small frame he adored so much. “Not bed?” he questioned with a grind of bodies that caused their breaths to hitch together.
Spencer bit the other’s lip. “Floor.”
A tumble off the couch and some shifts landed them in the center of the apartment exactly where Spencer wanted. Away from the places that held onto the raw memories of Aaron Hotchner, the places that made Spencer question his decisions and reminded him how well Diluadid could feel when clouding his mind.
The agent rolled onto his stomach, felt his hardened cock press against his belly as it was pinned between himself and the carpeted floor. He pressed down a moment, moved as if to hump the floor, and felt the short bits of fabric sting his skin. He’d get burnt from this; friction would take the top layers of his skin right off. If his knees bared the brunt pain may occur when walking tomorrow. Reid bent up his knees to ensure it.
Ethan kissed his way up the man’s back as he draped his body over the other’s. “You sure?” he asked between Spencer’s bared shoulder blades as his hand caressed, then gripped, the man’s ass.
“Fuck me.” Spencer responded simply, heatedly, gruffer than anyone at the BAU would ever suspect he was capable of.
A finger drew its way across Reid’s hole, teased and pressed ever so slightly into the man’s ass. He elicited a buck back into him from Spencer as the younger man moaned his arousal. His cock strained to enter, but still Ethan held back, unsure.
“Fuck me, Ethan.”
Was this really what his friend wanted? No tender kisses or calm touches or words of love. Nothing to make what was about to happen any smoother. Did he really want to just…get fucked?
“Spencer?”
“Fuck me!”
Ethan had held onto the slightest hope that this still, somehow, involved him. Not anymore. This was about Spencer and Aaron and their burns…for drugs, for pain, and for each other.
Spencer was jolted from the force of entry and he gasped out desire in curses. The shock of it obliterated all his other thoughts and the man let roughened pleasures take over him.
"Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.” ~ Joseph Campbell
Next Section:
Green With Tension
Previous Sections:
Diagnosing the Disease
Breaking the Bonds
Shaky Control
Reality of Escape
Ill Judgment
The Memorial Nightmare
Painfully Numb
One Slip
Degrees of Sin
Dirty Clean
Avoid the Unavoidable
Reenact the Act
A Bullet and a Twist: Part 1
A Bullet and a Twist: Part 2
Serenity Swallowed
Line in the Circle
Stand to Crash
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Hotch/Reid, Reid/Ethan
Rating: FRAO
Summary: Reid looks for a brief escape from his doubts while Hotch finds a reason to doubt his current methods of escape.
Notes: This is AU but there are Season 5 spoilers!! Piece 17 of my "Breaking the Bonds" series that, once again, follows after the last piece. There's cursing, references to child abuse and mental illness, aggressive sex between men and, as always, angst. (Ethan was Reid's friend from Season 2's "Jones".) This piece is also set up a little differently, it switches between what's happening with Reid and what's happening with Hotch, so...yeah...just a head's up, haha!
Hotch’s hurt and rage carried him to his car faster than he thought possible. Then it froze him in the car as he warred with the idea of heading back up. Of putting Reid in his place with words and fists…mouth and hands. He acknowledged he had problems, that he needed help, and now Reid was refusing him? Who was he to refuse his superior? Who the fuck was Spencer Reid to tell Aaron Hotchner about control?!
The man slipped the key in the ignition then paused and gripped the wheel. He hated Reid. He hated that Reid seemed to be picking his old Vegas friend over him. That Spencer trusted and protected some fuck-friend over his own boss.
He felt the sting of tears.
What the hell was wrong with him? What did he care? Reid wasn’t family, he wasn’t Rossi or Gideon or anyone Hotch ever saw as a mentor. Spencer Reid was just a kid. A kid who’d needed him to bypass his physicals, to pass his firearm’s qualifications, and to save his ass on more than a few occasions.
Aaron hit the steering wheel once, twice, then a third time. The tears slipped in the act, but Hotch began to feel a touch better. Calmed enough to realize it wasn’t Spencer he was truly cross with.
It was that fuck-buddy of Spencer’s Aaron really hated. Ethan. Why was some heroin-addict not even Reid deemed important enough to mention before the Danlin case allowed to comment on all this? Why was he so interested, invested, in what occurred between one Aaron Hotchner and one Spencer Reid? Who was this fuck-up to tell a federal agent about his life?
The rage twisted and burned in Hotch’s gut, pounded in his head, and, for a moment, he thought he might vomit it up. He didn’t. He struck the steering wheel once more before turning to pound his fist into his own seat.
Ethan watched from the couch as Reid paced back and forth before him. He noted his friend’s non-stop scratching at his own arm. Spencer had done this before tests and presentations in school, throughout his withdrawals, and when his cravings were at an all time high on the first night Ethan came to Virginia. Everyone had their stress-ticks, Spencer’s had always been some kind of scratching.
Though sometimes this was all Reid needed, just to be watched. If he knew he was being watched than he could control the urge for the drugs. His addiction had always been a relatively private issue; he wouldn’t shoot up in front of others. He doubted he really even could. Ethan once jokingly suggested it came from the younger man’s general social awkwardness…Reid imagined Ethan wasn’t that far off.
“Spencer, you need to relax. You’re gonna give yourself a migraine.”
“No I’m not.”
“Alright, then you’re gonna give me a migraine.”
Reid didn’t even pause as he gave his best not-amused look to his old friend. Ethan just smiled back softly.
“I just, um, I can’t stop thinking about, you know, what happened. I mean, uh….” He finally stopped pacing in front of Ethan. Only his hand moved, digging nails where needles had. “I was…I was the only person he had.”
“Then he needs to get more people.”
“I know, I just…” Reid began to pace once again.
“What about that Rossi fella? Ya said they were close.”
“He wouldn’t admit he had a problem to Rossi.”
Ethan nodded a touch, then looked up at Spencer. “That why you threatened to tell him?”
“Rossi?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.” Reid nodded a little.
“Ya know, Rossi might already know.”
“If he does he’s not doing anything about it.”
“Maybe he knows Hotch’s gotta fall on his face first?”
“Maybe.”
Aaron got in a handful hits before his phone rang. He relaxed on the back of the cushioned seat, took a few deep breaths, then pulled the cell from his jacket pocket to view the caller ID. CAPT USA. It was the most recent coding for Jessie, Jack had picked it…Jack always picked it.
Another deep breath and Aaron answered. “Hello?”
“Hi daddy!” The boy was downright giggly as he cheered over the phone.
“Hey buddy,” Hotch straightened up more in the car as if nervous his son would somehow sense his slump. “Are you having fun at Auntie Jessie’s?”
“Daddy, when you gonna pick me up?”
“What’s wrong?” Hotch started his car.
“Nothing,” the boy replied in that sing-song way children his age do. “I miss you, Daddy, come an’ get me. Please.”
Hotch smiled at the words. Seeing Jack was exactly what he needed. His son’s love was the only constant in his life now, maybe the last one he’d ever get again. “Okay, Jack. Can you put Auntie Jessie on?”
“Okay!”
Hotch took the exchange time to switch his phone to hands-free and start to drive out of the parking garage. He was out onto the street by the time Jessica had the phone.
“Aaron? Hello?”
“Hey, what’s going on? Is everything okay?” Because maybe Jack didn’t want to worry him.
Jessie gave a small sigh of a laugh, Hotch always worried. Of course she would never blame him, not ever, but sometimes it was hard. Hard to mourn her sister properly when she immediately had to take the amazing woman’s place. Hard to keep a federal agent’s life running smoothly and still have her own. “Yeah, it’s fine, Jack’s just a little impatient today. Woke me up at five this morning he was so excited. If you’re busy it’s fine, a little time at the park and he’ll forget…maybe.” She laughed a touch again. Jack would not forget.
“No, no, it’s fine, I’m already on my way.” Hotch replied as he cleared his throat some.
Ethan watched as his friend’s scratching turned almost vicious, punishing.
“I’ve seen the needle and the damage done,” the man edged up on the couch, “a little part of it in everyone.”
It was a game they used to play together as boys. A game to entertain and distract, a game to pass time when Ethan helped Spencer out in driving him and his mother to their doctors’ appointments, and a game that kept Ethan’s mind off the latest broken bone or busted lip courtesy his parents that he had to heal from.
“Neil Young’s ‘Needle and the Damage Done’.” Reid gave the source as his hand paused its assault on his arm. Then he gave a barely perceptible smile. “O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains. That we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts.”
“William Shakespeare’s Othello.” Ethan smiled as he offered Reid his hand.
Reid took it and finally settled beside the other on the couch. For a while he was silent, his head fell back and it seemed he was finally relaxed. Then the scene between Hotch and him began to play over and over again. He began to scratch his arm once more, dug his nails through cloth and into skin. He couldn’t help it; he couldn’t find peace as he carefully dissected each word and gesture. Reid debated on whether or not he’d done the right thing and the cravings followed behind like a nagging schoolyard bully.
Ethan’s hand moved gently, with restrained strength, to Reid’s wrist and grabbed hold. “Stop,” Ethan said as his other hand joined the union and turned Reid’s palm up easily. Ethan kissed the palm.
Spencer’s fingers twitched excitedly under the heat of the other man’s breath.
Aaron Hotchner had to pull over three separate times to deal with his nausea. His head throbbed and by the time he arrived at Jessie’s house his clothes were dampened slightly with sweat.
He pulled into the drive beside Jessie’s car, turned off the engine, and looked at himself in the rearview. For the first time he doubted he could pull off the idea that nothing was wrong with him…he looked like shit. Sunglasses on, breath-mint in the mouth, and a quick straightening of the clothes was the best he could do.
He hit the doorbell from the front stoop and listened for activities from inside. The patter of fast, excited, feet mixed in with footfalls that are more calmly paced. The man began to smile when he heard the voice of his son calling out in excitement.
“Daddy’s here! Daddy’s here!”
Jack would save him. He would save him the way all children save their parents, unknowingly through their own innocent love.
The door opened and Hotch immediately lifted his son up into a hug.
In that first touch Reid felt safer, in the first word he was calmer, and in the first kiss he remembered exactly why Ethan was always so hard to resist.
“Ethan.”
“Mmm?” Another kiss, this one to his cheek.
Reid shivered a little. “Should we be doing this?”
“Don’t know.” Dissecting moral ambiguity was never Ethan’s strong suit…especially if his own desires were at stake. Spencer had, both angrily and amusedly, referred to Ethan as a walking id. “Do you want to?”
It was an unfair question to ask when hands were already slipping under shirts to tease the skin of ones hips, waist, and stomach. But then Ethan never completely played fair when he really wanted something.
“Yes…” Reid breathed low, “no…maybe…I don’t know.” His body certainly did, more and more with each kiss and touch even as he knew, deep down, this would only be a temporary distraction.
“Yes,” Ethan’s lips quirked into Reid’s neck, then pulled back the slightest to nip. “No,” the mouth scowled in feigned seriousness as it worked up to Reid’s now lax jaw. The lips stopped at Reid’s ear, huffed with the utmost care, already in synch with the other man. “Maybe so.”
Aaron carried his son to the disaster area known as Jessie’s kitchen. Like when they attempted to bake at home Jack had accomplished getting flour, egg, milk, and almost every form of decoration known to man over the table.
“We made cupcakes!” Jack announced proudly. “Spring cupcakes.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, we got green and pink and blue ones,” Jack began to list all the different colors of frosting and sprinkles he’d used.
Hotch set his son on a chair before he looked to Jessie. “Do you need help cleaning?”
Jessie waved off the offer and shook her head as she did a quick wipe down of the table. “Nope, I’m good, Aaron. Just sit yourself down and I’ll bring you both a cupcake in a minute.”
Reid turned his head and found Ethan’s mouth with demanding aggression. It wasn’t possessive like Hotch’s had been to his the night before, but it was still demanding. If he was going to do this he would do it under his terms and for his reasons. He’d wronged Hotch and would let Ethan dole out the punishment. Ethan wouldn’t mind. Not really.
“Make it hurt.” Reid finally broke their lips’ union, took advantage and stripped himself and Ethan of shirts.
Ethan didn’t ask because he knew. That’s the thing with having known someone since childhood, been with them almost since puberty…you just knew.
He knew to push Reid back into the couch and jerk the younger man’s long, curled, hair back until his neck was fully exposed. Teeth brushed, then bared down. Spencer gasped, dug nails into Ethan’s back. The first marks of the night, not the last.
Jessie had asked Hotch if he was okay at least five times, by the fourth the man almost snapped at her. She wasn’t like Haley who, for the most part, let things slip by under one of Hotch’s all too common “I’m fines”. Jessie kept at Hotch until he switched his story to confessing he was a little under the weather. Her look said she didn’t believe that either, but she wasn’t going to fight him on it.
“If you get called in, just call ahead so I can be sure to be here when you drop Jack off,” Jessie reminded her former brother-in-law as the man packed his son into the car.
“I will.” Hotch double checked Jack’s booster seat, then turned and smiled at Jessie. “Thank you again, for everything.” He could not possibly tell her that enough. Not ever.
“It’s not a problem Aaron, really. You’re family, I’d do anything for you and Jack, you know that.”
Hotch smiled under his sunglasses, through his pounding head and churning stomach. He would’ve hugged her but he couldn’t imagine how he might smell with his sickness and sans his standard shower. Instead he just waved, got in, and began to drive home fighting his continual discomfort along the way.
“Daddy?” his son called from the back seat.
“What is it buddy?”
“Can we nap at home?”
Hotch smiled a little at the odd question. “Are you tired?”
“No.”
“Then why do you want to nap?” Hotch’s son was never one to take a nap voluntarily.
“Cause, um,” Jack shifted some and tried to lean forward, “Cause you look tired,.”
“I look tired?” Aaron glimpsed his son in the rearview and saw nothing but love and trust…and worry.
“Yeah, I think you need a nap.” Hotch had always offered to nap with his son if it would get the boy down easier, the boy was doing the same for him now.
Ethan’s words began to play back in the agent’s head If you knew about your parents and I knew about mine then, odds are, Jack’ll know about his…if you don’t pull your shit together your son could end up with these same problems. Ethan was right. God Hotch fucking hated that guy.
“Then we’ll take a nap when he get home.” Aaron promised his son even as he felt the sting of Ethan’s prediction linger.
Reid shoved Ethan’s pants and boxers down roughly in favor of easy access that he quickly took full advantage of. His friend wasn’t the only one who didn’t play fair and Spencer knew exactly what the man liked.
“Where?” The word was little more than a growl as the other man thrusted up into Reid’s grip. It was tight, made Ethan think of what it was like being inside Reid…still his favorite place and the only person that felt like home.
“Floor.”
Ethan tugged and tore at the remainders of Spencer’s clothes, tossed them to the side with his and laid his body directly, fully, over that small frame he adored so much. “Not bed?” he questioned with a grind of bodies that caused their breaths to hitch together.
Spencer bit the other’s lip. “Floor.”
A tumble off the couch and some shifts landed them in the center of the apartment exactly where Spencer wanted. Away from the places that held onto the raw memories of Aaron Hotchner, the places that made Spencer question his decisions and reminded him how well Diluadid could feel when clouding his mind.
The agent rolled onto his stomach, felt his hardened cock press against his belly as it was pinned between himself and the carpeted floor. He pressed down a moment, moved as if to hump the floor, and felt the short bits of fabric sting his skin. He’d get burnt from this; friction would take the top layers of his skin right off. If his knees bared the brunt pain may occur when walking tomorrow. Reid bent up his knees to ensure it.
Ethan kissed his way up the man’s back as he draped his body over the other’s. “You sure?” he asked between Spencer’s bared shoulder blades as his hand caressed, then gripped, the man’s ass.
“Fuck me.” Spencer responded simply, heatedly, gruffer than anyone at the BAU would ever suspect he was capable of.
A finger drew its way across Reid’s hole, teased and pressed ever so slightly into the man’s ass. He elicited a buck back into him from Spencer as the younger man moaned his arousal. His cock strained to enter, but still Ethan held back, unsure.
“Fuck me, Ethan.”
Was this really what his friend wanted? No tender kisses or calm touches or words of love. Nothing to make what was about to happen any smoother. Did he really want to just…get fucked?
“Spencer?”
“Fuck me!”
Ethan had held onto the slightest hope that this still, somehow, involved him. Not anymore. This was about Spencer and Aaron and their burns…for drugs, for pain, and for each other.
Spencer was jolted from the force of entry and he gasped out desire in curses. The shock of it obliterated all his other thoughts and the man let roughened pleasures take over him.
"Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.” ~ Joseph Campbell
Next Section:
Green With Tension
Previous Sections:
Diagnosing the Disease
Breaking the Bonds
Shaky Control
Reality of Escape
Ill Judgment
The Memorial Nightmare
Painfully Numb
One Slip
Degrees of Sin
Dirty Clean
Avoid the Unavoidable
Reenact the Act
A Bullet and a Twist: Part 1
A Bullet and a Twist: Part 2
Serenity Swallowed
Line in the Circle
Stand to Crash