Email: slashgirl@gmail.com

Pairing: Hotchner/Reid
Archive: WWOMB; others please ask first.
Rating NC-17/FRAO
Prompt: 22 Libido
Word count: 1634
Disclaimers: Someone else, not me, owns these pretty boys (and girls), someones like CBS, etc. No infringement intended, no money being made.

Warnings: SPOILERS for Machismo (of a very general kind)

A/N: Okay, to my knowledge, they've never uttered the name of Aaron's son on the show. I've chosen Benjamin because, when I went to write it, that's the first name that popped into my head and it's a nice name.

As for Reid being an artist….well, I have no idea if he is or not. But Matthew Gray Gubler is so I thought why the hell not (yes, yes, I know RL and fic should never meet. Yadda, but Reid IS a genius.*G*). Besides, what does one buy Special Agent Aaron Hotchner for his birthday? So far we've seen no real hobbies. And frankly, a tie would've been boring and not really led anywhere.

This is a totally unplanned fic, it popped into my head after watching Machismo. *Damn you, Aaron Hotchner* I think he's taken up residence in brain. Not that I'm going to ask him to leave or anything and I really don't mind giving him teh sex with Reid but still…I had plans! *sigh*
 

Once upon a time in Mexico
by Stacy L.A. Stronach

George Eliot once wrote: "It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them."

It's Saturday and it's my birthday and I'm spending it in fucking Mexico away from my son. And my wife and sister-in-law. I hate to admit it, even to myself, but I miss Benjamin the most….

Yay. Happy Birthday to me.

I'm sitting alone in my hotel room, it's after 11 pm. Haley and I talked earlier and I could still hear how angry she is that I came down here. I'm not as dumb as her sister thinks; I _did_ know she was pissed off but it pisses ME off when Haley says it's fine and she's not mad when she really is. Passive-aggressive much, sweetheart? She knew my job when we married; I was already with the BAU then, working with Gideon. She knows how important my job is to me. My family is important, too, but if I want to get anywhere in the Bureau I HAVE to work when I'm needed. It sometimes seems as if she wants me to have the prestige (and the money) without doing the work.

My thoughts are interrupted when someone knocks on the door. We're staying at a small, clean motel near the police station. It's inexpensive enough that we've each taken our own rooms. Although, I do believe JJ and Elle decided to share; that must be a woman thing. I go over to the door. "Who is it?"

"Spencer."

I briefly consider telling him to go away, that I'm tired, but the truth is that I wouldn't mind some company. I open the door. He's standing there with a large box in his hands. I look at him curiously. He just grins at me. "Come in," I say, standing aside and then closing the door behind him.

He goes over and sits on my bed. I sit next to him. He drops his head and he looks up at me from under those long lashes, almost shyly. "Happy Birthday, Hotch," he says, handing me the box he'd been carrying. It's rectangular and wrapped in plain brown paper.

I open it and am almost brought to tears. It's a portrait of Benjamin, of my son. I look at Spencer. "How…?"

He shrugs, smiling. "I asked Haley for a photo, and when she asked why and I told her, she said she thought you'd like it. I painted it," he says.

It truly is beautiful, a wonderful rendition of my son, smiling and happy. I get up and set the picture on the bureau, propping it up against the mirror, so I can see it. "I don't know if I should put this up at home or maybe put it in my office." I'm truly pleased and happy with his gift. I love my son so much…

I turn around and Spencer is watching me. I'm still smiling. "Really, thank you so much, Spencer. It is a wonderful and thoughtful gift."

"I'm glad you liked it," he says.

I look at the picture again. "God, I really miss him."

"And Haley."

I slowly look at Spencer and stare into his dark hazel eyes. "I miss my son," I repeat. I see something flare in his eyes and suddenly, the air in the room seems heavy with expectation. I know that if I take that first step, something could, no, something _will_ happen. I stare into those gentle eyes and a large part of me wants this, wants him, and wants what he is offering. But the sane part of me, the one that keeps me in control, overrules my instincts. I break eye contact with Spencer, looking at the floor and then back at Benjamin's portrait.

In the mirror, in my peripheral vision, I can see Spencer rise and walk over to stand next to me. I don't…I can't look at him. He reaches a hand out, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Aaron," he says in a whisper.

I don't know who moves first and it doesn't really matter because we're kissing. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, sliding one hand into that soft hair. His arms go around my waist, under my shirt, which isn't tucked in, and his fingers are warm against my skin. We're kissing and his mouth is wet and warm and welcoming, our tongues are tangling and our teeth clicking together. He tastes…good, the only way I can describe it. I feel my dick getting hard; God I don't think I've gotten so hard so fast since I was a teenager. Spencer's body is pressing against my own; I can feel his dick pressing against my thigh. I should stop this; it's not what I need. But it IS what I want.

Spencer is making these whimpering noises in the back of his throat that are incredibly erotic. I drag my mouth away from his, panting for breath as is he. I trail kisses up and down his neck, flicking my tongue out to lick at the salty skin there. When I hit the spot under his ear, he moans and his hands grab at my back. I lave it with my tongue before nipping it gently and his hips push against mine. I'm careful not to mark him, as tempting as that is.

He pulls back from me a little and I wonder if he's changed his mind and I'm hoping not, even as his hands move to undo my pants. There is a flurry of frenzied activity as we manage to undress each other as we move toward the bed. Spencer falls back onto the bed and I stare at him for a few moments. He could be the visual for a definition of debauchery: his hair is falling over his flushed face; he's stretching his arms over his head with wrists crossed; his body is thin but muscular the pale skin flushed rosy with arousal; his legs are spread; his cock is hard and waiting for me. Christ.

"Aaron," he whispers like my own personal temptation.

I don't speak; I just climb on the bed between his spread legs, running my hands up his thighs, over his hip, up the sides of his waist before gently stroking them over his chest. He watches me and I can feel the weight of his gaze on me. I pinch his nipples and he arches his upper body, head tilting back, his eyes closing and he's moaning again. I smile, moving my hands to either side of his body, bracing myself as I lower my mouth to suck on one of his nipples, my tongue flicking it. I graze it with my teeth as I pull my mouth off to give similar treatment to the other one.

"Oh, god," Spencer moans. He moves his hands and puts them on my back before sliding them down to cup my ass. I move up and kiss him again. He pulls me closer and I fall on top of him, but manage to brace my elbows on the bed so my full weight doesn't land on him.

Our bodies are touching and Spencer starts moving his hips, our cocks brushing together. I move my own hips in counter rhythm to his. We're kissing and thrusting and moaning; his hands are cupping and caressing my ass. I'm nuzzling his neck when Spencer brings one hand up, pushing his fingers against my mouth. I oblige, sucking on his finger like it's his cock. He stares up at me, lust writ on his face and in his eyes; he slowly pulls his finger out of my mouth and I kiss him again. Our tongues slide together and into one another's mouths as we embrace.

My head snaps back as I feel his finger slide into my hole and I thrust against him hard. It's enough to send him over the edge and Spencer's coming, his hips pushing against me erratically as his warm come spurts over my cock and belly and he's whispering my name over and over. He manages to stay aware enough to keep working his finger in and out of my ass. A few more thrusts and I explode over his belly; my face is pressed against his neck and when I collapse on him, Spencer wraps his arms around me.

I lay there, catching my breath and feeling the pounding of his heart against the side of my face where it now rests on his chest. Bringing one of his hands up, Spencer runs his fingers through my hair; it's a soothing caress. I like it. It's making me sleepy. I let him do it for a few minutes, then I sit up and reach over, snagging a few tissues from the box on the nightstand. Spencer watches me, dozy with sleep, while I clean him off and then myself, as well as I can. I turn out the lamps before lying back down on the bed. I wrap my arm around Spencer, encouraging him to move closer and he does.

He gives me a quick kiss before settling down next to me. "Good night, Hotch," he says. "Hope you had a good birthday."

I chuckle. "Yes, I did, thank you." I'm sleepy yet can't seem to fall asleep until I hear the regular, even breathing from the man next to me.

Gabrielle Roy once said: "The more the heart is sated with joy, the more it becomes insatiable."

I don't know what tomorrow will bring or what will occur when we get home. I just know I want to keep Spencer Reid in my life. And I only hope that can happen.

~~**the end**~~