Biological Trigger (4/4)
Title: Biological Trigger (4/4)
Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: Criminal Minds; Hotch/Reid
Warnings/Notes: set immediately post Corazon. Established relationship; angsty h/c fic. language. Sex.
Word Count: 2,468
Summary: To avoid what Reid fears the most, he just might have to give up the one thing he’s realized he desperately wants.
Ok, so I actually wrote this over a month ago and posted it on tumblr, it just took me forever to get it here…so sorry guys, X.X
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Even when he technically can sleep in, most of the time Aaron doesn’t. It was a combination of work and Jack and early morning runs, but every now and then he defied his own rules. After lying awake longer than he’d counted he’d finally fallen asleep at what felt like somewhere in the early morning, and when he first woke out of habit as the sky just barely began to slant light trough the blinds he turned his head and nestled it into the crook of Reid’s neck. He was warm and comforting and Reid had a point about scent, because there was something about taking in a scent that was so wholly Reid that just made him want to hold on tighter and settle in.
When he woke again at ten, he knew there’d be no going back to sleep from there. They’d shifted as they slept but Reid still held him tight and as Hotch shifted to pull away he stirred, mumbling under his breath as his hands flexed against Hotch’s skin.
Smiling, Hotch leaned in to lightly kiss his still closed eyelids.
“Shh. It’s alright, I’m just going to shower. Go back to sleep.”
He’d shower, and in the time it took him Reid would have curled up in the warm spot he left behind and fallen back asleep. Unlike him, the kid could sleep all day if you let him(and sometimes, after a case or a TV marathon or a movie premiere or a book series, he did). With the days he’d had lately, a lot more sleep could only help.
Four hours later, Hotch had showered, found Reid’s computer and done two hours of his own migraine research, made coffee, talked to Jessica and Jack, and had finally settled in on the couch with a book off Reid’s shelf. He’d never loved reading he way Reid did, though he did enjoy a book when he had the time. With time being the operative word there, he’d rarely read novels since he’d joined the BAU. He wasn’t far along when he heard shuffling in Reid’s room, and he abandoned Neverwhere to go make Reid a cup of coffee with a godawful amount of sugar. By the time he came back Reid had stolen his seat, curled against the arm of the sofa in his boxers and Hotch’s sweatshirt. It swallowed him and was short in the sleeves, but it was his and Reid was wrapped up in it and whenever he saw Reid in his clothes it reminded him all over again how beautiful and arousing it was.
Leaning over him, he pressed the warm mug into Reid’s hands.
“You were right, yesterday, about our instincts.” Over the rim of the cup Reid eyed him questioningly, and he leaned in farther to put his lips just below Reid’s ear. “I do love to see you wearing something of mine.”
He could hear Reid’s smile shape jis words before he saw it, drawing back to watch Reid take hs first sip of coffee. “The trait is most prevalent among alpha males; not only for reassurance but as a public sign of the claim he has on his mate. Subconsciously, you know I smell like you and other males would be unable to keep from noticing it on an instinctive level as well…not that I’m going out like this; hate to disappoint you.”
“Oh I’d rather keep this sight to myself anyway.” Hotch took the seat next to Reid on the couch, smiling when he tucked his feet in against the warmth of Hotch’s thigh. “Good morning.”
“Good afternoon. I slept through morning and midday already.” His voice, warm and rough with sleep, lacked any irritation. Hotch tugged Spencer’s feet all the way across his lap, his hand settling to rub soothingly against his calf.
“You certainly needed it. How are you feeling?”
“Better. It’s still there, but the lights aren’t quite as stabby today. I think it’s on its way out.”
“Good. If you mostly rest today and tomorrow, maybe that’ll be the end of it.” For now. Regardless of the reason, once migraines became chronic they tended to stay chronic. Now really wasn’t the time to dwell on that. Reaching over Spencer’s bent knees, he retrieved his own cup from the coffee table. “So other than a jar of peanut butter and a box of wild rice, you have no food. I can go pick us up something, or if you want to get dressed we could-“
“Can we pick up Jack and go home?”
The warmth that rushed through him all the way to the tips of his fingers was unstoppable, and he twisted enough in his seat to take Spencer’s face in his hands for a thorough kiss. He tasted like coffee, like mornings at the BAU when they actually weren’t busy and Spencer kissed him in his office behind the door. God, he loved this man beyond all explanation, beyond things like sense and the ability to even imagine what he’d have become after Foyet if he hadn’t had Spencer there to hold on tight and keep him from flying off the rails.
When Hotch let him go, Reid took a sip of coffee before he’d even fully caught his breath. Just after he muttered, “Priorities.”, and Hotch laughed, in that moment happy in a way he never could’ve imagined. Sometimes, he wished Haley could see him like this. Mostly, he feared that she already did, that if she could’ve asked she’d have wondered why it wasn’t her that could light him up like this. Once, she had, but on those last years he could’ve asked her the same thing. She’d told him once, after the divorce hat she’d known what was coming; she’d seen the way he looked at Spencer. In his defense, he’d pointed out that if he had, looking was all he’d ever done. She’d stepped farther, and wasn’t that worse? Sometimes, he regretted the principles that had kept his mouth shut about is feelings for Reid. If he’d told him sooner, been there for him in a more concrete way…
None of those thoughts ever did any good.
His hands drifted to Spencer’s knee, gentle as he worked at rubbing away any morning stiffness.
“Of course we can go home. Soon as you finish your coffee.”
---
“Daddy!”
Every now and then, Hotch remembered that Jack was growing up, that in maybe not so many years he probably wouldn’t be daddy anymore and Jack wouldn’t be ever ready to run and throw his arms around his legs. Every time he realized that he tried to lock it all up tight, every last memory of his favorite sound.
He ruffled Jack’s hair before he leaned in to kiss the top of Jack’s head, squeezing him close.
“Hey, buddy. I missed you.” Every time, and he’d never miss an opportunity to tell him. His memories of his own father were nothing but a horrible and occasionally confusing jumble, and he’d thought even as a boy about the kind of father he’d be if he ever had the chance, about how he’d never let his children for a second doubt his love. He wasn’t sure yet how well he’d do long term, but he was doing his best.
“I missed you too, dad.” His chin rested against Hotch’s side, his smile fading as he craned his head up. “Is Spencer still sick?”
“I think he’s feeling a little better, but why don’t you go ask him?”
Spencer’s quiet approach to stand against the doorjamb had been cloaked by Hotch’s entrance after Jessica told Jack he’d just come in. He’d waited, hung back to let Hotch greet Jack first even though he didn’t have to, and when Jack saw him he immediately let go to run to him. As far as favorite sounds went, hearing Jack yell Spencer’s name with that same kind of little boy enthusiasm absolutely hovered around second.
Spencer went down on one knee to catch him even though that position coud never be pain free for him, and he called Jack’s name back to him with just enough exaggeration to make his little boy giggle. His arms wound around Spencer’s neck, and for a moment Spencer pulled him desperately tight, his smile flickering for a second under the weight of thoughts Hotch wished he could smooth away.
“Daddy said you didn’t feel good and he had to go take care of you like when I’m sick and he stays home and mom used to make soup so I asked Aunt Jess and we made it for you.” He rambled the way only a child could, a rushed yet stilted flow that mostly came with the words muffled by Spencer’s neck until he pulled back, his eyes on Spencer’s. “It’s in the fridge. I didn’t eat any yet.”
Headache notwithstanding, the past few days had clearly dragged Spencer through one hell of an emotional wringer. Between his fears about his future and theirs and the obvious pain he’d been in as he tried to push Hotch away he was an emotional raw wound, open and just on the edge of bleeding. Listening to Jack Hotch could see his throat work as he swallowed a little too hard, trying his best to even himself out.
“Thank you, Jack. I’m sure it’ll help.”
Fingers tightening on Spencer’s collar, Jack spoke with certainty. “Dad always says I’m supposed to come home if I’m sick.” The implication was plenty clear, and though Hotch’s fingers twitched to find Spencer’s shoulders and soothe him, he didn’t intervene.
Spencer cleared his throat, absently smoothing Jack’s ruffled hair to give himself something to do with his hands. “That’s right. Over 66% of kids in school miss at least a little class every year due to illness, and it only takes one person to make it spread. More important than that, though, is the fact that when you come home and rest like your body needs to you-” Spencer cut himself off with a deep breath, his hands sliding to Jack’s shoulders. “Your dad’s right. He’s actually right a lot-” There, for just a heartbeat his eyes flicked up to find Aaron’s. “-and I should’ve come home last night. And I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“Do you feel better?” With Jack, there was never any real blame. Not yet, at least.
“I think so, yeah. Not all the way, but I’m alright. Hey, look what I brought us.” Reid deflected pretty masterfully sometimes. He rummaged in his bag, fishing out a DVD box set that shimmered a little when light hit the cover. “Your dad said you wanted to talk about snow leopards.”
Jacks nod was enthusiastic, thoroughly distracted. “I got a hundred on my science quiz! And we got stickers and mine’s a snow leopard and his tail is so cool!”
“Oh their tails are so cool!” Everytime he watched Spencer get into a subject like this Hotch cold hardly help but smile. At work when they had to keep his focus on the case he too often had to reign him in; away from necessity, it was nice to lean back against the wall and listen to him go. “Ok you could see how long that tail is, right? Think about when we talked about lions, it’s nothing like that is it?” Jack shook his head, eyes on Spencer with rapt attention. “That’s because while lions can climb to a certain extent they don’t prefer it and they’re not really built for it. A lion’s place is almost always on the ground, and they’re suited for it but snow leopards, they live in a world of shifting rock and high ledges and they need the weight and length of that tail as a counterbalance to keep them from losing their footing. Just as important, though, think about how you wear a scarf in the winter, when it’s really cold you pull it up over your mouth, right? They do the same thing when they curl their tail; it holds their breath and helps regulate their temperature in the worst winter conditions. And this-” Spencer tapped the box in his hand, smiling “This was the first time anyone had ever caught a snow leopard on tape.”
“How is he?” Jessica’s low question distracted him from Jack’s enthusiasm, drawing his gaze back to where she stood near the kitchen. She was always nice to Spencer, but even so he had yet to decide how much he trusted her with that part of his life. He trusted her implicitly with Jack, but he feared a little, deep down, that she didn’t approve. While Haley had been good to Spencer in the aftermath, it was unlikely she’d hidden from her sister her suspicions that Spencer had been the anchor that kept Hotch tethered to the BAU. She was wrong, but that hadn’t stopped her from wholeheartedly believing it. Jessica might truly prove herself still family or he might not, but until he was certain he felt bound to shield Spencer from her a little, just in case.
“He’ll be fine; it was a hard case. It’s amazing we didn’t all end up with a migraine.”
On the floor Spencer and Jack were still talking, and Jack leaned in to reach for Spencer’s bag only to have Spencer stop him, gently.
“You said-“
“Oh there’s a new book in there, but it’s a surprise.” He scooped Jack up as he stood, grinning when Jack laughed at being swept off his feet. Spencer’s whisper was conspiratorial, soft but just enough to carry. “When I was your age, it was my favorite.”
---
“Can we read the new book?”
“Absolutely.”
At Jack’s request Hotch had squeezed himself into Jack’s bed first so Jack could clamber on top of him and nestle against his chest, Head on Hotch’s shoulder as he looked across to where Spencer sat cross legged at the foot of the bed. There was fluid ease to his movements Hotch hadn’t seen in days as he cracked the cover and turned to the first page, stopping only to push his sleeves up almost to his elbows. Even at rest he was always careful, so careful, but one day, when Jack was old enough, he’d have to face his questions. One day.
“Ready?” The question was for him more than Jack, a sign he’d Spencer had caught onto his profiling and he shook himself a little, smiling when Jack tugged on his shirt.
“Pay attention, dad.”
“Sorry, sorry, I’m listening.”
“You better be.” Spencer eyed him with mock warning as he smoothed the page, working to keep the smile in his eyes away from his lips.
Jack giggled, Hotch shushed him, and Spencer started to read.
“In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit…”
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Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: Criminal Minds; Hotch/Reid
Warnings/Notes: set immediately post Corazon. Established relationship; angsty h/c fic. language. Sex.
Word Count: 2,468
Summary: To avoid what Reid fears the most, he just might have to give up the one thing he’s realized he desperately wants.
Ok, so I actually wrote this over a month ago and posted it on tumblr, it just took me forever to get it here…so sorry guys, X.X
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Even when he technically can sleep in, most of the time Aaron doesn’t. It was a combination of work and Jack and early morning runs, but every now and then he defied his own rules. After lying awake longer than he’d counted he’d finally fallen asleep at what felt like somewhere in the early morning, and when he first woke out of habit as the sky just barely began to slant light trough the blinds he turned his head and nestled it into the crook of Reid’s neck. He was warm and comforting and Reid had a point about scent, because there was something about taking in a scent that was so wholly Reid that just made him want to hold on tighter and settle in.
When he woke again at ten, he knew there’d be no going back to sleep from there. They’d shifted as they slept but Reid still held him tight and as Hotch shifted to pull away he stirred, mumbling under his breath as his hands flexed against Hotch’s skin.
Smiling, Hotch leaned in to lightly kiss his still closed eyelids.
“Shh. It’s alright, I’m just going to shower. Go back to sleep.”
He’d shower, and in the time it took him Reid would have curled up in the warm spot he left behind and fallen back asleep. Unlike him, the kid could sleep all day if you let him(and sometimes, after a case or a TV marathon or a movie premiere or a book series, he did). With the days he’d had lately, a lot more sleep could only help.
Four hours later, Hotch had showered, found Reid’s computer and done two hours of his own migraine research, made coffee, talked to Jessica and Jack, and had finally settled in on the couch with a book off Reid’s shelf. He’d never loved reading he way Reid did, though he did enjoy a book when he had the time. With time being the operative word there, he’d rarely read novels since he’d joined the BAU. He wasn’t far along when he heard shuffling in Reid’s room, and he abandoned Neverwhere to go make Reid a cup of coffee with a godawful amount of sugar. By the time he came back Reid had stolen his seat, curled against the arm of the sofa in his boxers and Hotch’s sweatshirt. It swallowed him and was short in the sleeves, but it was his and Reid was wrapped up in it and whenever he saw Reid in his clothes it reminded him all over again how beautiful and arousing it was.
Leaning over him, he pressed the warm mug into Reid’s hands.
“You were right, yesterday, about our instincts.” Over the rim of the cup Reid eyed him questioningly, and he leaned in farther to put his lips just below Reid’s ear. “I do love to see you wearing something of mine.”
He could hear Reid’s smile shape jis words before he saw it, drawing back to watch Reid take hs first sip of coffee. “The trait is most prevalent among alpha males; not only for reassurance but as a public sign of the claim he has on his mate. Subconsciously, you know I smell like you and other males would be unable to keep from noticing it on an instinctive level as well…not that I’m going out like this; hate to disappoint you.”
“Oh I’d rather keep this sight to myself anyway.” Hotch took the seat next to Reid on the couch, smiling when he tucked his feet in against the warmth of Hotch’s thigh. “Good morning.”
“Good afternoon. I slept through morning and midday already.” His voice, warm and rough with sleep, lacked any irritation. Hotch tugged Spencer’s feet all the way across his lap, his hand settling to rub soothingly against his calf.
“You certainly needed it. How are you feeling?”
“Better. It’s still there, but the lights aren’t quite as stabby today. I think it’s on its way out.”
“Good. If you mostly rest today and tomorrow, maybe that’ll be the end of it.” For now. Regardless of the reason, once migraines became chronic they tended to stay chronic. Now really wasn’t the time to dwell on that. Reaching over Spencer’s bent knees, he retrieved his own cup from the coffee table. “So other than a jar of peanut butter and a box of wild rice, you have no food. I can go pick us up something, or if you want to get dressed we could-“
“Can we pick up Jack and go home?”
The warmth that rushed through him all the way to the tips of his fingers was unstoppable, and he twisted enough in his seat to take Spencer’s face in his hands for a thorough kiss. He tasted like coffee, like mornings at the BAU when they actually weren’t busy and Spencer kissed him in his office behind the door. God, he loved this man beyond all explanation, beyond things like sense and the ability to even imagine what he’d have become after Foyet if he hadn’t had Spencer there to hold on tight and keep him from flying off the rails.
When Hotch let him go, Reid took a sip of coffee before he’d even fully caught his breath. Just after he muttered, “Priorities.”, and Hotch laughed, in that moment happy in a way he never could’ve imagined. Sometimes, he wished Haley could see him like this. Mostly, he feared that she already did, that if she could’ve asked she’d have wondered why it wasn’t her that could light him up like this. Once, she had, but on those last years he could’ve asked her the same thing. She’d told him once, after the divorce hat she’d known what was coming; she’d seen the way he looked at Spencer. In his defense, he’d pointed out that if he had, looking was all he’d ever done. She’d stepped farther, and wasn’t that worse? Sometimes, he regretted the principles that had kept his mouth shut about is feelings for Reid. If he’d told him sooner, been there for him in a more concrete way…
None of those thoughts ever did any good.
His hands drifted to Spencer’s knee, gentle as he worked at rubbing away any morning stiffness.
“Of course we can go home. Soon as you finish your coffee.”
---
“Daddy!”
Every now and then, Hotch remembered that Jack was growing up, that in maybe not so many years he probably wouldn’t be daddy anymore and Jack wouldn’t be ever ready to run and throw his arms around his legs. Every time he realized that he tried to lock it all up tight, every last memory of his favorite sound.
He ruffled Jack’s hair before he leaned in to kiss the top of Jack’s head, squeezing him close.
“Hey, buddy. I missed you.” Every time, and he’d never miss an opportunity to tell him. His memories of his own father were nothing but a horrible and occasionally confusing jumble, and he’d thought even as a boy about the kind of father he’d be if he ever had the chance, about how he’d never let his children for a second doubt his love. He wasn’t sure yet how well he’d do long term, but he was doing his best.
“I missed you too, dad.” His chin rested against Hotch’s side, his smile fading as he craned his head up. “Is Spencer still sick?”
“I think he’s feeling a little better, but why don’t you go ask him?”
Spencer’s quiet approach to stand against the doorjamb had been cloaked by Hotch’s entrance after Jessica told Jack he’d just come in. He’d waited, hung back to let Hotch greet Jack first even though he didn’t have to, and when Jack saw him he immediately let go to run to him. As far as favorite sounds went, hearing Jack yell Spencer’s name with that same kind of little boy enthusiasm absolutely hovered around second.
Spencer went down on one knee to catch him even though that position coud never be pain free for him, and he called Jack’s name back to him with just enough exaggeration to make his little boy giggle. His arms wound around Spencer’s neck, and for a moment Spencer pulled him desperately tight, his smile flickering for a second under the weight of thoughts Hotch wished he could smooth away.
“Daddy said you didn’t feel good and he had to go take care of you like when I’m sick and he stays home and mom used to make soup so I asked Aunt Jess and we made it for you.” He rambled the way only a child could, a rushed yet stilted flow that mostly came with the words muffled by Spencer’s neck until he pulled back, his eyes on Spencer’s. “It’s in the fridge. I didn’t eat any yet.”
Headache notwithstanding, the past few days had clearly dragged Spencer through one hell of an emotional wringer. Between his fears about his future and theirs and the obvious pain he’d been in as he tried to push Hotch away he was an emotional raw wound, open and just on the edge of bleeding. Listening to Jack Hotch could see his throat work as he swallowed a little too hard, trying his best to even himself out.
“Thank you, Jack. I’m sure it’ll help.”
Fingers tightening on Spencer’s collar, Jack spoke with certainty. “Dad always says I’m supposed to come home if I’m sick.” The implication was plenty clear, and though Hotch’s fingers twitched to find Spencer’s shoulders and soothe him, he didn’t intervene.
Spencer cleared his throat, absently smoothing Jack’s ruffled hair to give himself something to do with his hands. “That’s right. Over 66% of kids in school miss at least a little class every year due to illness, and it only takes one person to make it spread. More important than that, though, is the fact that when you come home and rest like your body needs to you-” Spencer cut himself off with a deep breath, his hands sliding to Jack’s shoulders. “Your dad’s right. He’s actually right a lot-” There, for just a heartbeat his eyes flicked up to find Aaron’s. “-and I should’ve come home last night. And I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“Do you feel better?” With Jack, there was never any real blame. Not yet, at least.
“I think so, yeah. Not all the way, but I’m alright. Hey, look what I brought us.” Reid deflected pretty masterfully sometimes. He rummaged in his bag, fishing out a DVD box set that shimmered a little when light hit the cover. “Your dad said you wanted to talk about snow leopards.”
Jacks nod was enthusiastic, thoroughly distracted. “I got a hundred on my science quiz! And we got stickers and mine’s a snow leopard and his tail is so cool!”
“Oh their tails are so cool!” Everytime he watched Spencer get into a subject like this Hotch cold hardly help but smile. At work when they had to keep his focus on the case he too often had to reign him in; away from necessity, it was nice to lean back against the wall and listen to him go. “Ok you could see how long that tail is, right? Think about when we talked about lions, it’s nothing like that is it?” Jack shook his head, eyes on Spencer with rapt attention. “That’s because while lions can climb to a certain extent they don’t prefer it and they’re not really built for it. A lion’s place is almost always on the ground, and they’re suited for it but snow leopards, they live in a world of shifting rock and high ledges and they need the weight and length of that tail as a counterbalance to keep them from losing their footing. Just as important, though, think about how you wear a scarf in the winter, when it’s really cold you pull it up over your mouth, right? They do the same thing when they curl their tail; it holds their breath and helps regulate their temperature in the worst winter conditions. And this-” Spencer tapped the box in his hand, smiling “This was the first time anyone had ever caught a snow leopard on tape.”
“How is he?” Jessica’s low question distracted him from Jack’s enthusiasm, drawing his gaze back to where she stood near the kitchen. She was always nice to Spencer, but even so he had yet to decide how much he trusted her with that part of his life. He trusted her implicitly with Jack, but he feared a little, deep down, that she didn’t approve. While Haley had been good to Spencer in the aftermath, it was unlikely she’d hidden from her sister her suspicions that Spencer had been the anchor that kept Hotch tethered to the BAU. She was wrong, but that hadn’t stopped her from wholeheartedly believing it. Jessica might truly prove herself still family or he might not, but until he was certain he felt bound to shield Spencer from her a little, just in case.
“He’ll be fine; it was a hard case. It’s amazing we didn’t all end up with a migraine.”
On the floor Spencer and Jack were still talking, and Jack leaned in to reach for Spencer’s bag only to have Spencer stop him, gently.
“You said-“
“Oh there’s a new book in there, but it’s a surprise.” He scooped Jack up as he stood, grinning when Jack laughed at being swept off his feet. Spencer’s whisper was conspiratorial, soft but just enough to carry. “When I was your age, it was my favorite.”
---
“Can we read the new book?”
“Absolutely.”
At Jack’s request Hotch had squeezed himself into Jack’s bed first so Jack could clamber on top of him and nestle against his chest, Head on Hotch’s shoulder as he looked across to where Spencer sat cross legged at the foot of the bed. There was fluid ease to his movements Hotch hadn’t seen in days as he cracked the cover and turned to the first page, stopping only to push his sleeves up almost to his elbows. Even at rest he was always careful, so careful, but one day, when Jack was old enough, he’d have to face his questions. One day.
“Ready?” The question was for him more than Jack, a sign he’d Spencer had caught onto his profiling and he shook himself a little, smiling when Jack tugged on his shirt.
“Pay attention, dad.”
“Sorry, sorry, I’m listening.”
“You better be.” Spencer eyed him with mock warning as he smoothed the page, working to keep the smile in his eyes away from his lips.
Jack giggled, Hotch shushed him, and Spencer started to read.
“In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit…”
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