Criminal Minds Fanfic

by spinner

Reckless

written for the hotch hearts reid prompt meme

1  2  3

1

“Obviously I’ve never been attacked by a lioness, but I’m pretty sure I have at least a vague notion of what it might be like.”

Hotch said the words in a misguided attempt to be funny, wanting to alleviate the tension of the situation.  It was a bad idea.  But his heart was in the right place, and that should count for something.

Of course, it was his heart which had gotten him in this mess in the first place.  Maybe he should stop listening to his heart.  His heart, which had always had a protective fondness for Dr. Spencer Reid.  His heart, which over these last few months had gone from fondness to full-blown, no-antidote, there’s-no-hope-for-you, you’ve-got-it-bad, reckless and actual true love.  His heart, which last week had convinced him to suggest to Spencer that it was high time they stopped pussy-footing around.  They should tell both their families, once and for all, that they were a couple, they were living together, and they planned to spend the rest of their lives together.

When Hotch had suggested this madness, in the kitchen after dinner, Reid had slipped and dropped several plates and nearly impaled himself on the dinner forks and a surprisingly-malicious butter knife.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Reid had asked when he picked himself up off the green tiles.  He leaned against the counter, nursed the bruise blossoming on his left elbow, and gave Hotch a troubled look.

“Of course it’s a good idea!” Hotch had bluffed.  Once the words were out of his mouth though, he was himself not so very convinced.  But Spencer was nothing if not a good sport, and he agreed to at least try and break the news to their families.

They started with an easy audience – Jack.  The five-year-old took the news with surprising aplomb.

“That’s good.  Does that mean you ARE still trying to make babies?’ he had asked.  Reid bit his mouth together and whimpered softly in anxiety and frustration.  Hotch had to leave the room for fear of wrecking his son’s psyche forever with ill-timed, inappropriate amusement at the boy’s innocent if confused question.

Hotch slept on the couch that night, and the next.  Aaron took this as a good sign, because if Spencer was comfortable enough in their relationship that he felt he could banish Hotch to the couch (the settee, actually) and expect to be obeyed in this demand, then it was indeed time to open up to their families about their relationship.

They told Sean next, over the phone.  He took a minute or two to process the information he had been given.  Aaron’s younger brother had offered quite the ringing endorsement.

“Okay.  If you’re sure.  I’m happy for you.  Be careful.”

Then Sean recommended not telling their mother.

Hotch chose to disregard this kind advice.  He was feeling good about this relationship, and he wanted to be honest with his mother.  When they did talk, every few weeks or so, she was asking when Aaron would consider dating again.  He waited for his opening, and he took it.

“Aaron, it’s time,” Mrs. Hotchner said flatly and impatiently.  “Jack needs two parents.  You simple must start dating again.”

“Actually, Mom, I have good news for you,” Aaron had said cheerfully.  He glanced over at Spencer for reassurance.  He received none.  Reid was curled up in the corner of the divan, knees to his chest, holding his breath, a look of sheer dread on his pale features.

“My God!  Have you found someone?!  Tell me all about her!” Mrs. Hotchner responded loudly, excitedly, and with enough vigor that Spencer could easily hear her voice.

“Sandy hair, hazel brown eyes, very tall, very thin.  Too thin,” Hotch was smiling at Reid.

Reid was not smiling back.  Hotch sensed that there was trouble ahead, and he might be spending another night on the settee.

“Darling, there is no such thing as a woman who is too thin.  Tell me her name,” Mrs. Hotchner purred deeply.

“His name is Spencer.  He’s a man,” Hotch explained, in case his mother had missed the obvious pronouns.  “I’d like for you to meet him.  Maybe you could come to dinner with us when you are in DC again?”

There was no answer, only dead silence on the other end of the phone.  The line had unceremoniously disconnected.

But not for long.

Minutes later, Sean called back.  Reid quietly excused himself from the tv room and allowed Hotch privacy to talk to his little brother.  Hotch closed the pocket doors and screamed profanities at his sibling for ten minutes straight, using words Spencer had never heard come out of Hotch’s mouth except in bed in the heat of passion, and then only after one too many neat scotches.

Reid decided this might be a good time to take Jack and go get some ice cream, even if it was not quite February and 32 degrees outside.  Jack, it seemed, was all too happy to go.

So all in all, considering the way things had gone with breaking the news to the Hotchner family, Aaron and Spencer should not have been at all surprised with how things had gone breaking the news to Diana Reid.  She was, after all, clinging to reality with a tenuous grip on even the best of days.

2

“Spencer, baby, it’s so wonderful to see you,” Diana beamed, standing up, putting her arms around Reid, tucking him close to her and holding him tight.  “You’re so thin.  Don’t you ever eat?”

“Only when medically necessary,” Spencer teased.

“I’ve been worried about you.  I’m so glad to see you.  I’ve sensed that something is wrong.  Are you all right?  Why are you here?”

“We were in the neighborhood,” Spencer lied to his mother, cherishing the hug she was giving him.

Diana let go of her son long enough to stare coldly at Hotch.  She might not have recognized him.  He wasn’t sure.  He tried to judge how coherent she was today and to sense how this might go.  Aaron had no problems recognizing that reptilian stare though.  He had felt it more than a couple times from Spencer.  Hotch tried to comfort himself that the worst Diana might think was that he was an agent of the tyrannical and fascist government bent on holding her captive and destroying her mind.  Maybe they could still be friends after all.

“Do you remember Hotch?” Spencer asked, a placid, happy smile lighting up his face as he turned to tug Aaron closer to Diana.  Hotch had inched away.

“You are all smiles, aren’t you?” Diana said, sliding one finger along Spencer’s jaw and smiling fondly at him.  “Yes, I remember Agent Hotchner.  Have a seat, Spencer.  You have good news for me.  I can tell.  Talk to me.”

Reid was suddenly brimming with warmth and hope.  Reid sat with Hotch on the small couch that faced Diana’s loveseat.  Aaron was starting to wonder if Diana’s ability to read her son was more about wishful thinking than mother’s intuition.

“Oh!” Reid exclaimed, letting go of Diana’s hand and fumbling for his leather satchel. “I meant to show you this over Christmas and totally forgot it at the hotel room.  I brought it now, and I….”

Diana took the satchel away with one firm tug, putting it down on the floor at her feet and pushing it under the loveseat she was seated on.   Although there were times when the line between parent and child could blur for these two, this was clearly not one of those times.

“Spencer, you are too good at distractions.  It’s like you’re holding the entire snake, but I never see the fangs.  I only hear the rattle.”

Her words struck Hotch as an odd metaphor, one that crept along his spine and made him very uncomfortable.

“What did you come here to tell me?  No more distractions,” Diana scolded firmly.

Spencer was frowning at his mother, giving her a dark look from underneath those long lashes.  Aaron should have known then that Spencer would strike back when wounded, especially when separated so violently from his precious satchel.  Spencer opened his mouth and began to blurt words at his mother like gunfire from an automatic weapon.

“Hotch and I are living together.  We’re quite serious, actually.  He and Jack are sharing my house.  We’ve been together for several months, since early fall.  I’m in love with him.  I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

Diana’s thin body swelled, her lungs filling with air, and her face went blood red.  She was like a puff adder on the verge of a very frightful puffing.

“What?” she hissed.  If she had had a rattle on her tail, she would have been shaking  it.

“And by the way, you’re a grandmother,” Spencer added, not without a delicious wicked smirk.

“You’re sleeping with my son?!” Diana spat the words at Hotch but Spencer answered.

“Sleeping with me?  No, Mom.  He’s not sleeping with me.  We’re fucking.  We had sex in the taxi on the way over,” Reid growled as he bent down and snatched his satchel up by the handle.  He got to his feet and bolted for safety.

Admittedly, Hotch had been distracted by the false statement about the taxi, and was not thinking correctly.  He was sitting facing Diana, then watching Reid stomp off towards the stairs, then wondering what the hell had just happened.  Hotch realized later that his mistake had been watching Reid leave instead of following Spencer out.

3

“Obviously, I’ve never been attacked by a lioness, but I’m pretty sure I have at least a vague notion of what it might be like,” Hotch said, giving a half smile, waiting for Spencer’s response.

It took a few moments for Reid to process the remark, owing to the great amount of tequila he had consumed in the last two hours since they had returned to their hotel room in the middle of the Vegas Strip.  There were so many light blinking and waving and throbbing outside the hotel room windows that two layers of closed curtains did very little to dim their radiant enthusiasm.

Spencer pulled himself upright on the large bed with some effort.  He reached into the ice bucket that was resting on the floor beside the large pink bed, and withdrew a single cube.  This came as a relief to Aaron, who was worried Reid was reaching for the unopened bottle of wine and meant to come smack him dead with it.  He wasn’t sure he wanted his obituary to mention that he had been bludgeoned to death with a large bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau.

Reid got to his feet and unsteadily crossed the room to where Hotch was lounging on a long purple chaise.  Aaron was vaguely amused, because it was so rare that he saw Reid drink, let alone drink in excess.  Hotch smiled to himself when he realized that the only other time he had seen Reid this drunk was the first night they had slept together.  That had turned out pretty well, so he had high hopes for the rest of their evening.

“I’m sorry my mom clawed you,” Spencer offered, climbing up onto the chaise and kneeling over Hotch’s long legs, nestling his butt back and forth to find a good spot to sit.

Reid stroked Hotch’s face with the ice cube, running over the raised red marks that ran down the side of Aaron’s face from forehead to jawbone.  Luckily, Diana had not broken the skin.  Luckily, the orderlies standing nearby had had previous experience when it came to Mrs. Reid’s amazing attack tendencies.  Luckily, by the time Hotch and Reid returned to Quantico and the rest of the BAU team, the superficial marks would be nothing more than a memory.  Hotch and Reid had taken an entire two weeks off, and had near on twelve and a half days left of that.

For now though, the raised red marks were more than a reminder that Diana Reid was protective of her son.  They were a reminder that the next time Hotch got it into his head that he wanted to do something stupid and suicidal, that he should stop listening to his heart and listen to his brain.

“How can I make this up to you?” Spencer whimpered, nuzzling Hotch’s face.

“Shhh…” Hotch soothed, taking the ice cube away.  He reached up and rubbed Spencer’s bottom lip with it.

“I promise, she’s not always like that,” Spencer whispered, opening his mouth, lapping his tongue against the cube.

“I know,” Aaron replied, running the cube down Reid’s chin, slowly down his throat.  Spencer cocked his chin skyward and his breath hitched sexily.  Long fingers spun around shirt buttons, and Reid leaned further back on Hotch’s legs, spreading his shirt open, offering himself up.  Hotch licked his lips and decided he was willing to get scratched by Diana Reid as often as necessary if it meant Spencer  would always be in his life.

Hotch ran the lucky ice cube down Spencer’s chest, teasing one nipple, watching rose-red skin wrinkle and grow taut.  Aaron had to stretch, but he was able to follow the cold ice with the warmth of his tongue, the brush of his lips.  Reid caught his breath and clutched all ten fingers in Hotch’s hair.

“More. Please.  More,” Spencer pleaded.  Aaron pulled his knees upwards and drew Spencer even closer.  He was able to suck now, able to enjoy the sound of Reid moaning in pleasure.

Hotch put the ice cube in his own mouth and traced along Reid’s chest, over moles and freckles, across slender ribs, across his appendectomy scar, towards his navel, where the cube finally disappeared into nothing more than a mere sliver of silver wet coldness that Aaron dribbled into Reid’s belly button.

Spencer gasped in surprise and muffled Hotch’s face against his skin for a long moment until he could control himself again.

Icy water dripped down from Reid’s navel to follow the thin trail of sandy body hair which disappeared below the waist of his low-slung trousers.  Hotch lapped hungrily at Reid’s ivory skin and simultaneously wrestled with his buckle to undo his belt.

“Yes, please, oh, Aaron, God, yes, please,” Spencer begged.

“I tell you what,” Aaron whispered, tearing open Spencer’s trousers and reaching cold hands into his boxes in order to shove them down to his thighs.  “When we get married, we’re eloping.”

Hotch was tearing the remainder of Spencer’s clothes off on the way back to the large pink bed.

more to come

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