Chapter Text
Aaron has never been to Reid’s apartment before now.
There is the front door—unremarkable—burgundy on the outside like all the others in the dusty, cluttered hall of the building. It’s painted black on the interior of Reid’s apartment. Aaron prefers the way Reid looks pushed up against the red backdrop rather than the black, but Spencer is too worried about disturbing his neighbors to let Aaron crowd him against the outside for long.
Then there is the snaking path to his bedroom. Reid hasn’t turned the lights on, so Aaron’s only impression of the passing living room and adjoining eat-in kitchen is that Reid’s place is more decorated than he expected. From what he can see in the light of the windows, it’s nothing fancy or expensive, but all well-intentioned and carefully curated. It isn’t as if Aaron has been picturing him living in a dorm room all this time, however, it seems asynchronous to his age. It’s certainly more effort than Aaron ever put into his living space at twenty-three or even now at thirty-eight. Haley is—was– the decorator.
Reid’s bedroom is sparse by comparison, tranquil and dark. The overhead light remains off, but he flips on multiple lamps on his bedside stands and dresser. The black out curtains are drawn tight, no light from the street below penetrating the room. Aaron stops his observations when Reid sits on the foot of the bed and tugs him closer by the belt, undoing the buckle with deft hands.
Much later, Aaron sprawls next to him, touching only where their labored breaths cause their shoulders to lightly brush. Now that he’s less distracted, he can get a sense for the less than ideal parts of Reid’s apartment. The whole building seems to creak and groan with age, the walls and floors all slant at odd angles, and it’s a little drafty. He lets his eyes roam over the scant decorations of the room. Reid has a professionally framed map above the dresser and two ceramic figurines of dogs playing poker on the bedside stand next to Aaron. He’s cleaned the place up nicely.
Reid pushes his hair out of his face and sits up. He has two bruises on his left shoulder, one green and nearly faded, another freshly blooming. He shakes his hair out once more and twists back to look at Aaron.
“I know it’s not much, but I’m sure it’s better than whichever motel is closest to Quantico.”
Aaron laughs softly through his nose and reaches down to tie off the condom.
“That, and the service here is excellent.”
———
“So,” Spencer begins, facing Hotch on the couch, curled up in a robe and not much else, his chipped coffee cup nestled in both hands against his chest, “Does Haley know about the…you know…cheating?”
Hotch sighs and looks up from his own coffee. His hairy legs are stretched out in front of him, feet resting on the vintage trunk Spencer uses as a coffee table. He’s wearing boxers and a sweatshirt Spencer loaned him, his own wrinkled clothing draped over the arm of the couch next to him for when he has to leave later and sort out his life. Spencer usually swims in that sweatshirt, but Hotch wears it well.
“Sort of,” Hotch mutters with a weary shake of his head.
”Does she know about me?” Spencer asks with a grimace.
”No,” Hotch replies softly.
”Others, then?”
Hotch’s face twists in confusion, “What others?”
Spencer tilts his head, just as confused.
“Your other affairs.”
Hotch slides his feet off the table and turns to face Spencer, resting his mug against his knee.
“I didn’t have other affairs.”
There is a stretch of silence as Spencer stares wide eyed at Hotch, the only noise in the room the soft whistle of the radiator.
”Really?” He asks.
”Yes?”
Spencer takes a deep pull of his coffee before he sets it on the trunk and adjusts his glasses on his face, brows quirked in contemplation.
”Wait, but what about before we met at Quantico?”
”Reid, you are the only person I cheated on Haley with.”
Spencer can’t help the way his jaw falls open at the information. The reaction makes Hotch’s brows pinch impossibly closer together.
”Why is that so shocking to you?” Hotch questions.
”I don’t—I just—I figured if you were doing it with me, you would be also getting around with better guys. You might as well, right?”
Hotch is staring at Spencer like he is speaking another language. He sets his coffee on the floor next to the couch and when he leans back up, his hands land limply in his lap.
”Have you been seeing other people this entire time?” Hotch asks.
”If by ‘seeing’ you mean ‘fucking’, then yes, Hotch. I have been.”
Spencer would laugh if Hotch didn’t look so wounded. Hotch scrubs a hand over his face and looks at anything else in the living room that isn’t Spencer.
”How does that bother you?” Spencer prods, utterly perplexed by the turn this morning after has taken.
Hotch’s expression closes off and he finally makes eye contact, but the confusion is still apparent in the slight pursing of his lips, “I just think I should have been made aware.”
“I thought you would have assumed on account of the whole ‘illicit affair’ we were having,” Spencer says with air quotes to emphasize, “It’s not like we’re in an exclusive relationship.”
”Is that not something you would want?” There’s an annoyed edge to Hotch’s words that rubs Spencer the wrong way.
”You’re married!” Spencer sputters. They were usually so in sync, but every turn Hotch takes in this conversation is so unexpected Spencer can feel nothing, but pure befuddlement at his responses.
“Not for much longer!” Hotch retorts, throwing his hands up, “What have we been doing?”
Spencer blinks away the confusion, mouth opening and closing as he looks for the right words.
“I don’t know, Hotch, but I’m not just going to let you fall out of your marriage and into another with me. I like what we’re doing, and I don’t want it to end, but I can’t be that for you.”
Evidently those aren’t the right words because Hotch’s face twists back into hurt, puzzled scowl.
”So you don’t want a relationship with me, but you want to continue what we’re doing?”
“What’s wrong with just being friends and coworkers and having sex with each other? That’s a relationship too.” Spencer all but whines to the water-stained ceiling.
“It’s not a relationship in the conventional sense of the word.”
“I’m not conventional,” Spencer says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Aaron rolls his eyes, “I am.”
“Clearly,” Spencer glares, “How’s that working out for you?”
Hotch glares right back at him and stands from the couch. Spencer sighs and unfolds his limbs to reach for his hand. Hotch tries to shake him off but Spencer grips hard with both hands and pulls him back with all of his body weight.
“Wait. I’m sorry.”
Hotch pauses, but he doesn’t sit back down, towering over Spencer. Spencer isn’t heavy enough to keep him from moving if he really wanted to go, so he counts this as a win.
“I meant what I said in the parking garage, Hotch. I like you. I want to spend time with you.”
”Ok, Reid. I get it.”
”Will you please just let this go for a bit and we can talk about it again when everything is a little less…fresh?”
Hotch’s hand twitches in his grasp and he tugs again, jostling Hotch’s arm and making him stoop a little lower.
”Ok.” Hotch sighs and lets himself be pulled back into the couch.
———
“She’s 28, a little short compared to you maybe, but was rockin’ a sweater vest just like you do, and best of all—she’s a pharmacist,” Derek lists while leaning on Spencer’s desk in the bullpen.
It’s barely 9 AM and Spencer is intently notating a file. He continues working in hopes that Derek will give up and wander off to distract someone else, but he just snatches the pen out of Spencer’s hand.
”Derek, please,” Spencer whines.
”So? How’s that sound?” Derek prods, with a swat to Spencer when he reaches up for the pen, “I can ask my girl to pass along your number to her whenever you want.”
Spencer gives up, swaying back and forth in his chair as he picks up his coffee. He can’t help but roll his eyes at Derek’s millionth attempt to set him up with someone. His new desk neighbor, Elle, has been watching the interaction and catches his eye with an intrigued look.
“If I need a prescription filled, I’ll let you know,” Reid quips.
“Now, don’t be like that,” Derek groans, “She’s smart. She’s cute too. What more could a genius want?”
Before Spencer can answer for himself, Elle cuts in from behind Derek.
”Seems like he wants something completely different to me.”
The glint of mischief in Elle’s smirk doesn’t sit well in Spencer’s gut. Derek turns to her, Spencer all but forgotten in the face of a challenge.
“Oh? You think you can hook him up with somebody before I can? Be my guest. I’ve been trying for months and haven’t gotten anywhere.”
”Yeah, I think I can. I’ve only been in Virginia for two weeks and already think I’ve met someone who would be more his type.”
”Well, Greenaway. Prove it.”
“Derek, stop encouraging this,” Spencer groans, setting his coffee down with a thud, “And give me my pen back.”
Spencer lunges for it, but Derek deftly lifts the pen out of his reach and ruffles Spencer’s hair with the other hand. He’s smoothing it back into place when Elle finishes typing away on her computer and turns the monitor to him.
“Here. Take a look.”
Spencer and Derek lean over the partition to look at her screen. She has a MySpace profile pulled up.
Jeremy Parker.
The main photo is a young guy with a buzzcut and glasses. He’s wearing a button down over a t-shirt and holding a cat.
Spencer’s jaw drops. Derek bursts into laughter above him.
“Wow, good one Greenaway.”
She ignores Morgan’s reaction and meets Spencer’s shocked eyes. She raises her eyebrows and purses her lips as if to say, Am I wrong?
Spencer’s gaze flickers back to the picture on the profile. He’s okay looking. The photo isn’t very flattering. Derek watches his second, assessing glance and does a double take of his own.
“Wait, are you for real?”
Spencer looks at Elle, face heating, and then up to Derek. He thinks about denying it, but then he looks back to Elle and she has that challenging look in her eyes again.
“You’re getting warmer, for sure,” Spencer says, snatching his pen back from Derek’s distracted hands.
———
Aaron opens his door to Reid dangling a plastic bag in front of him with his signature little wave of a greeting. He’s exchanged the sweater vest he wore to work earlier for a big gray sweater. Aaron arrived at his new apartment ten minutes before and has only had time to lose his suit jacket and tie since.
“Thanks for the invite. I brought Thai.”
Reid steps awkwardly into the apartment once Aaron backs away to let him enter. The place is sparse and still smells like fresh paint. Boxes line most of the walls. The building looks nice from the outside, but the fixtures and finishes of the interior could all probably be found at the lowest end of whatever big box hardware store catalog the previous owners had chosen to fix the place up.
“Well, here it is,” Aaron says to fill the silence, gesturing over the place. He’s only moved his things over from the Holiday Inn two nights ago and he’s been slammed at work since.
“Wow,” Reid remarks, taking off his coat and shoes, “Lots of potential.”
”Thanks for the optimism. It will be better when I assemble some of this furniture. I haven’t had the time.”
”I imagine my PhD in engineering could prove useful in the task if you wanted the help.”
Aaron laughs, ”It’s all IKEA, so I’ll probably need it.”
Aaron nudges Spencer to sit on the couch, the only furniture piece not in a box aside from his mattress, which is sitting on the ground in one of the bedrooms. Aaron drags over a box containing what will one day be his coffee table to serve as a makeshift surface to eat off of. Reid sets the plastic takeout bag atop it.
It’s not until they are both eating from styrofoam containers that Reid breaks the silence.
”So, have you thought about our conversation at all?”
”Yes,” Aaron sighs, “I get where you’re coming from, but I can’t say that I necessarily understand it. I’m old, Reid. I’ve never operated the way that you’re looking for.”
Reid sips his green curry with his eyebrows raised.
”You’re not that old.” He doesn’t acknowledge anything else Hotch said.
”Maybe not,” Aaron allows with a sardonic frown, “but that doesn’t change the fact that casual isn’t necessarily my style.”
Reid hums, taking another bite of curry and stretching his long legs out in front of him. He’s wearing one green and navy striped sock and a solid orange sock.
”Aren’t you curious what you’ve been missing?” He asks with a gesture of his spoon.
Aaron’s noodles sit mostly untouched in his lap, too on edge in this conversation to inhale the meal like Reid currently is.
”How do you know I’ve been missing anything?”
“Because if I’m not mistaken, you’ve only ever had sex with me and your soon-to-be ex-wife.”
Aaron shrugs, embarrassed, ”I like having sex with you.”
”Likewise, Hotch, but believe me, there’s a world of other men out there who could probably get you off just as well.”
Aaron miserably spears a piece of broccoli but doesn’t eat it.
”Is that all this is to you?”
Reid is quiet for a moment, staring into his takeout container while he thinks.
“No. We’re friends—or I want to be.”
Aaron can’t control the scoff that leaves his throat, ”Do you fuck all of your friends?”
”I don’t have any friends,” Reid snaps before immediately shrinking back, voice distant and removed, “Not really anyway. Please just take the compliment.”
Aaron frowns at that. Reid is one of the most confusing individuals Hotch has ever met. Everytime he thinks he’s beginning to understand him, he says something that makes Aaron’s brain turn in circles.
“Ok. But how do I know when what we’re doing is just being friends or when it’s something else.”
Reid rolls his head back against the couch and scrunches his eyes closed.
”Why do you need to know the difference?”
Aaron waits long enough for Reid to open his eyes and look at his direction before he answers.
”Because of the career problems this already could pose for us, for one.”
Reid waves away the concern like it's just a fly buzzing around him.
”We just keep doing what we’ve been doing. Nothing has to change. No one has to know. Gideon thinks I just have a big fat crush on you, and he can believe that if it keeps him occupied. This doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
”So, what? I just go pick up random men and then call you up when I want to see you and then we come into work and pretend none of that happens?”
Reid nods, ”If you wanted to, yeah. I think it would do you some good, honestly.”
”And you’re okay with that?”
”I am. Are you?”
”Does it matter?” Hotch grumbles.
”Yes, Hotch,” Reid insists, voice defensive, “I can’t keep seeing you like this if you want to lock me down. I won’t just be your rebound. What happens when you realize I’m not what you want because you never thought to try anything else?”
“Reid—“
”Don’t make me give you the post-divorce statistics, Hotch.”
”Fine,” Aaron says, picking up his fork again.
”Fine?” Reid echos.
”Let’s do it your way. I’ll try it.”
This is a horrible idea. But Reid’s pants are slung low on his hips where he lounges across Aaron’s shitty leather couch and his hair is untucked from behind his ears, ends curling just over his cheekbones. He is bright and energetic in a way that seems to radiate to everything around him. This apartment has felt like a wasteland since Aaron had been handed the keys, just another reminder of everything he’s going to have to rebuild. Even in a bitchy mood, Reid made him forget for one second how unbelievably, miserably lonely he was.
Aaron finally takes a bite of his meal and Reid’s lips curl in a smile he can’t quite contain.
”Thank you, Hotch.”
Aaron doesn’t say anything, just nods. Reid launches into a tangent about the manufacturing principles IKEA uses to make their furniture so affordable and he lets him carry the conversation until the queasiness in his stomach ebbs away.
When their meal is finished, Reid helps him put the bed frame together. It takes nearly two and half hours, but only because Aaron uncorks the bottle of red wine his realtor gave him at signing and after a glass or two, Reid talks Aaron into letting him ride him right there on the bedroom floor. Afterwards, they finish assembling the bedframe dressed only in their briefs.
They slide the mattress on the frame together and Reid puts his clothes back on while Aaron makes the bed. When he’s back in his sweater and slacks, Reid pats the frame as if to check its sturdiness.
”We’ll have to test it out some other time.”
Aaron chuckles, “Right. Thanks for christening the place.”
”Any time. See you at work, Hotch.”
Aaron thinks about kissing him goodbye, but doesn’t want to push his luck. Reid would probably think that’s clingy.
”Bye, Reid.”
———
Gideon takes off his readers as Aaron settles into the seat across from him where he sits at his desk. It’s late in the office, but of course, they are both still here. Even Reid left over an hour ago. Gideon closes his file and leans back in his chair.
“You’re troubled,” He doesn’t say it like a question.
“That easy to tell?” Aaron asks.
“Not usually. What’s the issue?”
”Jason, I’m going to tell you something because I respect you, and I would hate for this to come out and blindside you.”
Gideon steeples his hands in front of his face, expression placid.
“Okay.”
”It’s about my divorce.”
Gideon nods.
“I know how office gossip works. Most people assume my marriage is ending because I am unable to put Haley and Jack before the job. While that’s a part of it, certainly, it’s not the entire picture.”
Gideon doesn’t move, his hands still clasped below his chin, elbows resting against the armrests of his chair. The only sign of reaction is a small exhale of a sigh through his nose.
“So you were unfaithful?” He guesses.
Aaron drops his gaze, studying the scattered papers on the surface of the desk. Gideon’s tone lacks any indication of judgement, but Aaron feels it anyway.
“Yes.” Aaron confirms.
”You don’t need me to tell you that there are certain people in the bureau who would find that kind of behavior to be a sign of poor character in an agent.”
Aaron isn’t going to be able to ever tell Gideon the entire truth of the matter, but he needs to be as candid with him as is able if he is going to come to work every day and let this man rely on him.
”I’m aware. That’s why I wanted to be honest with you. I care about your opinion of me, and that’s why I need to explain—“
Gideon barrels right over him, waving away his explanation. Despite being curious and nosy, Gideon always prefers to get his information indirectly. It makes him uncomfortable to have a heart to heart.
”There’s no need. Not being perfect in your personal life isn't going to make me question your abilities as a profiler. If anyone—“
”Jason, I cheated on Haley with a man,” Aaron interrupts.
For once, he shows his surprise plainly. Gideon drops his hands to his desk and snaps his mouth shut. A moment passes where he cocks his head to the side and hums to himself, lost in thought.
“Oh.” He muses.
”Yeah.” The relief of saying it out loud dissolves any other words Hotch had been planning to say.
”I wasn’t expecting that.”
Aaron shakes his head, “Well, neither was she.”
Gideon considers him, hand back to rest on his chin as he absorbs the new information.
”Is this something you’re going to be participating in from now on?”
Aaron almost doesn’t know how to answer. He settles for a noncommittal shrug.
“Alright then,” Gideon huffs before a thought occurs to him and he leans forward in his seat, “Can you do me a favor?”
”Maybe. What is it?”
”Don’t mention this development to Reid.”
The guilt flares back to life ten-fold at the mention of his protégé. Another reminder of everything he’s not saying.
”Why not?” Aaron asks in between held breaths.
Gideon doesn’t answer, only making a vague gesture with his hands.
“…Right. Well, I wasn’t planning on discussing this with anyone else.” Aaron says as he rises out of his seat.
”Oh. Good, good. See you later, Hotch.”
”Goodnight.”
Aaron leaves the office. He can’t wait to discuss this strange conversation with Reid the next time he comes over.
———
It takes weeks before Aaron works up the nerve to take Reid’s advice. It’s a little too easy to come up with excuses to put it off.
At first he’s wrapped up in getting his life back in order, sorting out the divorce, getting his new place to a livable state so he can start having Jack over on weekends when he's home. The moment he has any free time, a case will whisk him away and he’s right back at square one.
It’s also too easy to just spend time with Reid; their schedules are always the same. Unfortunately, after a few gentle inquiries into whether or not Aaron has given any effort into ‘playing the field’, Reid puts his foot down and refuses to do anything non-platonic with him until he makes real progress. Whatever that means.
Reid actually recommended this bar, sending him off in the FBI parking garage with a thumbs up and a wish of good luck.
The first night he goes, Aaron has precisely one drink and then leaves, too jumpy to relax and look around. He’s spent decades squashing the impulse to think of other men this way. It’s too much too soon.
He comes back a week later after a case that leaves him restless and wishing for Reid’s attention. He lets his eyes roam the bar. Assessing. Appraising. There are few men who strike him as attractive, but none who seem like they are here looking for anything. He’s about to close out his tab and leave empty handed once again, when a man slides in next to him at the bar.
He’s decent looking, a little shorter than he is, probably in his thirties with a shaved head and wiry frame. He’s dressed almost as non-descriptive as Aaron is, jeans and a plain t-shirt. The man nods to Aaron’s nearly empty drink.
“Having another?”
Despite Aaron’s lack of visceral attraction to the man, he’s charming enough. His attention is…exciting. His eyes seem to roam over his body, but he punctuates his leer with a meaningful pause on Aaron’s face.
Aaron has been hit on before—mostly by women who, for obvious reasons, didn’t do much for him. It’s something else entirely to feel wanted by someone who piques his interest in return. He thinks of when Reid approached him all those years ago and overtook his senses entirely. It was heightened by how attracted Aaron was to just about everything about him. This guy isn’t inspiring anything that intense, but the experience is motivating in its own way.
The man raises an eyebrow and Aaron remembers he hasn’t replied yet.
“Yes, I was planning to,” He lies.
“What is that? Whiskey? Bourbon? I’ll get your next one.”
Aaron has never been on this side of the equation. Being the person pursued ignites a fizzle of heat in his chest. Whether this interaction ends here or continues elsewhere is up to him.
“Sure,” Aaron answers, agreeing to something else entirely, “It’s whiskey.”
”Be right back,” The man says with a wink as he slinks off of the stool and closer to the bartender.
When he comes back, they exchange small talk for the length of time it takes them both to finish their drinks. Aaron doesn’t answer a single question honestly aside from giving his real first name. Tonight he’s a corporate lawyer visiting from Baltimore. His companion is allegedly an accountant in Fairfax named Richard. When he tells Aaron he’s going to the bathroom and will be leaving the door unlocked behind him, Aaron downs the dredges of his drink and slides off of his stool to follow.
—-
“Be careful, my gorgeous hunk of beef. Mama’s hungry and would hate for you to come back missing a piece.”
”Don’t worry, baby girl, I’m all yours after we search this place,” Derek's voice responds over the scratchy speaker phone.
Garcia ends the call by jabbing her feather-tipped pen into the keypad of the phone. She shakes her head, earrings jangling noisily as she mutters to herself and types a mile-a-minute on one of her many screens.
“Stupid, handsome man and his stupid, dangerous job where he stupidly loves to volunteer for the most stupid, treacherous tasks.”
Spencer clears his throat from where he has been standing idly in the open door of her lair waiting for her to finish her call, “Um. Garcia.”
She springs back from her monitor with a shriek and spins in her chair to face him.
“Boy genius! If you don’t start announcing yourself, I’m going to get you a bell.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Spencer mutters as he slides onto the open chair next to her and holds out a post-it note to her, “I’ve been going over the files in the conference room and I need you to run a few addresses for me. I don’t think the location they are at is correct.”
”Ok. Let’s take a looksie.”
After Garcia’s satellite imaging confirms Spencer’s hypothesis, he calls Hotch to add another warehouse to their search list if their current location turns up nothing. Hotch says all of 6 words on the call before hanging up without a sign off. Spencer has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. Hotch is so paranoid about exposing their extracurricular activities he tends to swing too far in the opposite direction and comes across overly-terse with Spencer instead. The last thing he needs right now is Derek bothering him about why Hotch is seemingly upset with him. Speaking of—Spencer pockets his cell and smirks at Garcia.
”Sorry to keep your ‘hunk of beef’ away for another few hours.”
”You, my friend, are most definitely getting a bell,” Garcia grumbles, reaching out to pinch Spencer’s arm playfully.
“When you talk to each other like that do you really mean it?”
”I don’t not mean it,” She shrugs.
“So you guys like…you know…” Spencer trails off with an impish grin while he sways side to side in the chair.
”Oh. OH. No we don’t do any—we’re friends, best friends even.”
Spencer takes in her nervous rambling with raised eyebrows. This is kind of fun. He’s starting to get why Derek insists on meddling in his own love life. It’s a welcome respite from the stress of speed-reading building permits for the last three hours.
“Do you want to?” He presses.
”No,” She answers a little too quickly for it to be honest, “It wouldn’t be a good idea. I mean, we work together.”
”Right,” Spencer chuckles nervously, suddenly having a little less fun with this conversation, “But working together isn’t that big of a deal right?”
Penelope tilts her head side to side like she's weighing options on a scale as she types away on her keyboard. A loading screen appears and she turns back to look at Spencer.
”Yeah, he’s not my superior or anything, but it’s super frowned upon and I would hate to mess up the team dynamic.”
Spencer bites his lip, but nods his head, “Yeah…That could be messy, I guess.”
”So messy.”
Spencer gathers his case files and stands to leave. He’s almost out the door when he turns back, “Some messes are fun though, right?”
He can’t tell if he’s saying this for her benefit or his own.
Garcia rolls her eyes and holds out her palm at him.
”Talk to the hand, Reid!”
——-
Reid jerks his head hard enough that he knocks the back of his skull against the drywall, the moan of pleasure escaping his lips morphing into a grunt of pain once the action registers in his senses.
It doesn’t deter him. He only tightens his hands in Hotch’s hair and presses more of his bare skin into the cold walls of Hotch’s apartment to keep his balance.
Aaron is on his knees at Reid’s feet in only his briefs, one of Reid's legs hiked over his shoulder and his nose pressed into the neat crop of hair at the base of his dick while he swallows him whole. Aaron’s hands pin Reid’s hips in place against the wall, his fingers pressing deep dents into the flesh of his ass and likely leaving perfect oval imprints that will stay on his skin for days.
He bobs his head once, twice, and then a third time before bringing his tongue flat and heavy against the underside of Reid’s cock as he pulls back to suck the head. The leg Reid is standing on quivers and tenses with the movements.
“Oh my god, Hotch, where—ah!—where did you learn this?”
Aaron pulls off and slides a hand in between Reid’s legs to push two fingers back into his lube-slicked hole. Reid slides his hands down Aaron’s head to rest on his neck and shoulder. He’s looking up at Reid with wet lips and dark eyes, an eyebrow quirked in question.
“Do you really want to know?”
“I, uh—-fuck,“ Aaron curls his fingers and it cuts off whatever he is going to say, “nevermind.”
“Thought so.” Aaron smirks.
Aaron leans back in to take Reid in his mouth once again and pumps two fingers in and out of him at the same time. Reid is a mess above him and bound to unravel completely any second. His hands are back in Aaron’s hair, pulling hard in his attempt to hold on a little bit longer. Aaron breaths deep through his nose and descends as far as he can again. The action pulls another high-pitched cry out of Reid that makes his own neglected erection twitch.
Reid’s teasing is right, however.
Weeks of giving and receiving sloppy head in bathrooms, cars, and alleyways has broadened his skill in the technique by leaps and bounds. It’s all been enjoyable for the most part—some embarrassing moments here and there as he had gotten used to it, but it’s almost always a quick, exciting way to let off some steam.
Of course, none of it compares to the sight above him now.
His eyes water with the strain to keep them open as he swallows around Reid and continues to bob his head in time with the thrust of his fingers. With strangers, returning the favor isn't necessarily his favorite part of the exchange, but with Reid he couldn’t wait to get his mouth on him, to see his sensitive responses to everything he’s learned, to catalog his every tremble and whimper of pleasure and know that it was himself who made it happen.
Aaron pulls off halfway and releases Reid’s hips where his free hand has him pinned, letting him loose to do as he pleases for the last few moments before he tips over the edge. He thrusts with wanton abandon while Aaron scissors his fingers and takes it.
”Hotch, I—“
He can’t even finish the words before he’s coming with a breathy groan, hips stalling in their movements. Aaron takes him deep one last time and pulls off once he’s finished completely.
Reid pulls his leg off of Aaron’s shoulder to steady himself, but slides down the wall on shaky legs anyway, panting the entire time. Aaron clears his throat and sits back on his heels while he wipes his mouth on the back of his arm. They look at each other for a few breaths, both taking a moment to collect themselves after the proceedings. Aaron reaches to adjust himself where his erection is trapped painfully against the waistband of his briefs and Reid’s eyes follow the movement. When Aaron looks up again, Reid is smiling at him with a devilish grin.
“Get on the bed now. I’m about to make you a very happy man.”
Hotch scrambles to his feet without another word.
——
“Aaron.”
“Haley.”
Aaron tries not to shift uncomfortably on his feet where he stands on the porch of what used to be his own home. Before he rang the doorbell, he had absent-mindedly reached for his keys to let himself in. Then, of course, he remembered he didn’t have them anymore. Haley pushes the door open wider so he can come through.
“Come in. Jess and my friend Amy are here,” She turns and walks out of the entryway into the living room, speaking over her shoulder, “Jack’s napping and I didn’t want to wake him until I was sure you were here. He might be cranky.”
Aaron can hear the implication to words clear as day. Haley was expecting him to miss this weekend just like he had the last when he had been pulled away to Rhode Island to catch a disorganized psychopath. He nods at her retreating back and puts his hands in his pockets as he waits. Jess and Amy are sitting on the couch looking at him with thinly disguised judgement. He’s certain they have both been debriefed on the ins and outs of the impending divorce.
“Hello, Amy, Jess,” He greets with an incline of his head after clearing his throat. Both women share a glance over their crossed arms before continuing to assess every inch of Aaron’s weekend attire of a quarter zip sweatshirt and jeans.
“How are you, Aaron….good?” Jess asks with a tone cold as ice.
”I’m well. Thank you.” Hotch supplies.
”I’ll bet.” Amy replies.
Before the uncomfortable atmosphere can fester further, Haley comes back with the baby and his bag slung over his shoulder.
“Ok. This should cover the basics and I also put a few things of yours I’ve found around here in with them. I’ll take him out to the car with you.”
”Thanks.”
”Do you have everything he needs? I didn’t pack him any food or toys.”
Aaron doesn’t let his face fall into the scowl he wishes he could express, instead sighing silently through his nose. Hopefully as time goes on, this tour of humiliation will lessen with each in-person interaction they have to have.
”Yes, Haley. I’ve purchased everything he would need for a weekend.”
“She’s just making sure, Aaron. You’re very busy,” Jess chimes in.
Maybe he deserves that.
“Right.” Aaron says, swallowing his irritation, “Well, Goodbye, ladies. Always a pleasure.”
——-
The restaurant attached to the hotel doesn’t have very good food, but it's cozy, quiet, and open late into the night. The team has been eating there most nights of this case, sometimes together as whole, other times in pairs or trios. It’s not as if Aaron intends to get dinner with just Reid tonight, but when he arrives to find Reid sitting by himself at the bar reading a book, he also doesn’t hesitate to slide in next to him.
Reid closes the book and greets him with a tired smile. With no one else on the team around, a drink in their hands, and a basket of fries between them, it’s easy to fall into their familiar way of speaking when it’s just them. This case is heavy, and it seems they both want to talk about anything else.
Reid is telling him about the book he’s reading. It’s something Aaron has never heard of and also in Russian so he’s hopeless to keep up with him entirely, but he listens with rapt attention anyway, just happy to be able to focus on something other than the 4 dead women who’s killer they can’t seem to find.
After a few minutes, Reid’s subdued rambling peters into silence and Aaron can’t seem to think of a follow-up question fast enough to keep him going. Spencer sighs and for one second he looks as exhausted and downtrodden as Aaron feels. He glances away from the fry he is picking into tiny pieces to look at Aaron and shakes his head.
“Sorry, I’m just…you know.” He mutters with a vague gesture of his hand.
”Yeah. Me too.”
Aaron glances around the restaurant and to both entrances before scooting closer and letting a hand rest upon Reid’s leg under the bar. Reid turns on his chair and drops his hand to rest over Aaron’s, the gesture obscured slightly between their tilted bodies.
”Can I see you after this case?,” Aaron asks, “I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask for that, but I want to.”
Reid flicks the final piece of the fry back into the basket and draws his eyebrows together.
”Allowed? I’m not your keeper, Hotch.”
”Exactly. You’re not, but I don’t know what liberties I can take with you. We don’t usually plan our…meetings in advance.”
”In advance…like a date?”
”What we do doesn’t really feel like dates to me. Is that what they are for you?”
”No. Probably not. I haven’t really dated much.”
Reid glances around the room again, checking entrances just like Aaron had. He squeezes Aaron’s hand and then moves his leg so they are no longer touching. Aaron draws his hands back into his own lap. They are still sitting close, but they look like two men having a private conversation and nothing more.
“What’s the longest relationship you’ve had?” Aaron asks while they are still in this intimate bubble. Reid picks up another fry and resumes picking it into tiny pieces rather than eating.
”I’ve never been in one,” He says without looking at Aaron.
Guilt flares in Aaron’s gut. He’s too young for Aaron to be chasing him like this. Reid isn’t naive like most on the team seem to believe he is, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a valley of life experience between them. Still, when a lock of hair falls loose from its place behind Reid’s ear, Aaron aches to smooth it back into place.
”Not even something like what we’re doing?” Aaron presses.
”I don’t usually see people more than once or twice.”
”Why not?”
Reid looks at him for a fleeting moment before he tucks the errant strands of hair behind his ear and shrugs.
”You know me, Hotch. I’m not good with the social stuff.”
”You seem perfectly pleasant to me.”
Reid’s mood dips into something even more morose. He frowns into the bar and crumples up a napkin.
”For now.”
He mumbles it so quietly Aaron isn’t sure he heard him correctly.
”For now?”
Reid shrugs, finally looking at him again, “Just give it time. Everyone gets tired of it eventually.”
Aaron wants to press the issue, have him define what exactly “it” is, or to get to the bottom of this resistance to letting Aaron in. The words are on the tip of Aaron’s tongue, their eyes locked on one another with a magnetic pull, but a whoop of noise from behind them has Reid breaking the moment to look over Aaron’s shoulder.
Derek and JJ are striding into the restaurant from the hotel.
“Look who’s here! Mind if we join?” Derek says too loudly in the quiet space.
Aaron sits up straight to put some distance between them. Reid swivels away from him to further separate them. As Derek and JJ make their way over to the bar, he tosses the napkin into the basket of obliterated fries and leans over briefly.
“We can make some plans later.”