By Fabrisse
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid
Prompting Community: lj user="rounds_of_kink"
Rating: FRAO
Prompted by: n3_slashchat
Due Date: May 4
Kink: Hand fetishization
Prompt: Spencer has such long elegant fingers.
Jack was in bed, asleep finally, and Hotch didn't think he could handle one more report tonight. He had the whole weekend to catch up. Strauss had been kind, surprisingly enough, and let him have a fully encrypted laptop which let him get home at a decent hour these days. Working after Jack's bedtime and at odd hours over the weekend, let him keep up with his paperwork. He relied on Morgan for some of it now, but certain things could only be done by the Unit Chief.
Hotch had gone into work early today, so he could use the firing range. He'd been surprised to see Reid there in the next booth, at least until Reid reminded him that his qualifying test was next week. He'd been hesitant about letting Reid change weapons at first, but watching Reid practice with the revolver was a real eye opener.
It had been a long time since Reid had gotten nervous about his firearms qualification. Today, he'd spaced his six shots perfectly each time. Since they were on adjoining lines, they'd switched weapons, and Hotch had appreciated the extra weight of the Smith and Wesson. He'd wondered, briefly, if the extra heft worked better for Reid's larger hands.
What had truly captured his attention, though, was the play of Reid's hands over his Glock. His accuracy with that weapon had been nearly as good as with his own, and Hotch had congratulated him on how far he'd progressed. For a moment, he could have sworn Reid started to blush at the compliment.
As he sat on the sofa, Hotch debated whether to get himself a cup of tea or a glass of Scotch. Ultimately, he decided on decaf tea so he wouldn't keep himself awake.
If he really thought about it, Hotch could admit that seeing Reid handle his weapon earlier wasn't all that he was thinking about.
Right after Reid joined the team, Hotch had noticed the way he held his hands to read. It was a codified part of a popular speed reading technique -- one Hotch himself had learned in law school and still found useful for reports. But Reid's long fingers had called attention to what he was doing and, occasionally, the whole team would find their attention caught by the speed the pages turned and the placement of those elegant hands.
Elegant. It was the right term whether he meant it in the mathematical sense of perfect efficiency or in the aesthetic sense. Reid's hands were elegant -- those long fingers moving more swiftly than the eye could see when he did prestidigitation to relax or let himself think. His touches were rare, nearly as swift as the magic tricks, but they were warm and reassuring when they happened. The pressure of Reid's hands against his back when he'd said a thankful, "I knew you'd understand," still haunted him occasionally.
Hotch shut down his computer and leaned back on the sofa. He pressed the heel of his hand to his crotch and thought about the other moment that morning.
The elevator had filled up quickly and there'd been a sudden stop and jolt just before they'd reached the second floor. Reid had put his hands behind himself as a brace and ended up with his hands on Hotch who'd nearly lost higher thought processes when the blood slammed down.
Almost everyone had gotten off at the next floor, but he and Reid stayed until they got to the BAU level.
Reid had finally stammered, "I didn't mean… I'm sorry…"
Hotch had stopped him. "Things happen. I'll call maintenance to have a look at the elevator car. Is your knee all right?"
He'd nodded. "I'll put some ice on it."
"Go to the infirmary if you need to."
They'd gotten off the elevator and wandered to the break room together before going their separate ways for the day.
Under his own touch, he could feel his burgeoning erection. In the year after Haley left, Hotch had let friends fix him up once or twice, but there hadn't been a woman among them whom he thought was worth a second date. He hadn't been touched intimately since she left him and now that she was never coming back, his body ached for it.
He unzipped himself. He could still feel where Reid's hand had rubbed against him and it had taken all his willpower not to thrust forward at the pressure, the warmth, of the accidental touch.
His first year in college, he'd been shocked to realize there were women besides Haley he found desirable. Not that he hadn't dated before her, but Hotch was young and enough of a romantic to think that loving someone meant no one else would invade your fantasies.
His second year in college, one of his roommates had a friend -- Nick -- who'd insinuated himself into Hotch's dreams. On one memorable occasion after a frat party, they'd found a place away from everyone else and made out, a long aching session without climax. Later, Nick claimed he'd been so drunk he didn't remember anything that happened after nine p.m., but Hotch did and missed the firmer hands and rougher pressure of that one night.
His thoughts kept wandering as he touched himself.
At Christmas this year, Rossi had invited them all over to his place for a quiet supper. Jack and Henry were invited and the evening had gone well. Hotch had been shocked at how easily -- if carefully -- Reid played with both boys, his earlier fear of children, if that's what it had been, vanished completely.
On the way home, Jack had asked if a boy could be pretty because Spencer was as pretty as his teacher, but Jack was almost certain Spencer was a boy. Hotch had laughed and told his son about Morgan's occasional nickname for Reid.
Earlier on that winter evening, Reid had held a sleeping Henry on his lap and sat close to the fire. Hotch's breath caught in his throat at how beautiful he looked in the firelight. Their eyes had met for a moment, and Reid gave one of his huge grins. For the first time since the funeral, Hotch had smiled about something other than his son.
His left hand wrapped around his penis and he stroked himself surely, thinking of Reid's hand in place of his own. Would the touch be more delicate? Would one of those long fingers smooth itself up and down the vein the way Hotch liked it? Would Reid be adventurous enough to cup his balls or to taste the little drops of precum beginning to form?
There was a gentle knock on the door. Hotch hissed as he adjusted himself back into his trousers and padded over to answer it. Through the peephole, he saw Reid standing there, raising his hand to knock again. He unlocked the door.
Reid looked at him nervously. "I know it's late, but I wanted to…" He leaned in quickly and kissed Hotch on the lips.
Hotch took a step back and started to say something, but Reid stopped him.
"You've been watching me. And I … I've watched you, too, when you weren't looking. After this morning, and I'm really sorry about that, but I thought maybe there was something we could explore together." The younger man looked like he wasn't certain whether to expect a caress or a blow.
"Fraternization is frowned upon by the Bureau."
"Which is why you could never ask me. And if you tell me to go away, I'll never mention it again. I also won't fight it if you want me out of the unit. I'm making a pass at you, and I know there might be consequences."
Hotch smiled. "In that case, it would probably be much easier to make the pass if you come into the apartment."
Reid looked at him quizzically, and then smiled and crossed the threshold. When Hotch shut the door, he framed the older man's face in his hands and kissed him.
Hotch responded.
~
end