This was just a thing I was thinking of….I love The Beatles and I've always loved this song. So I guess this is part song examination, part angst, part…something? Hope you enjoy! Just a silly thing that was in my head. I don't know how links on this site work, so if people are not familiar with the song and would like to look it up, it is called "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" and it is off of "Abbey Road" (one of my favourites :D )

I do not own Criminal Minds in any way, which makes me sad. I also do not own The Beatles…damn now I am just depressed.

'I want you, I want you so bad'

"The White Album" may have been his favourite, but that didn't mean Hotch couldn't appreciate the others as well. Besides, it was lost to God knows where, and "Abbey Road" was a worthy substitute.

It had started off innocently enough; waves of nostalgia washing over him soothingly. He even found himself bobbing his head to "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" before he remembered what the song was about and changed it. Not that it wasn't a good song, but he didn't need to listen to a ditty about murderers before going in to work to put murderers away.

The album continued on pleasantly through traffic and coffee, and then the pleasantries came to a screeching halt.

'I want you so bad, babe.'

So simple, so achingly simple but so true to how he felt about someone he should not want. His heart beat faster as the song went on. He grew strangely emotional through the long guitar riff towards the end, his pulse pounding as Lennon's voice cut through the obsessive, meandering melodies of the electric guitar.

He played that song over and over as he sat in traffic.

'I want you so bad it's driving me mad it's driving me mad…'

"Damn it," he mumbled into his cup of coffee. He'd been able to put off his fantasies about Reid for a glorious five songs –okay, he thought, perhaps that wasn't true. "Something" had brought Reid into his mind again, of course. But it wasn't the mood he was in; he sometimes was in the softer, more delicately loving mood that the song conveyed, but today...today was a simple, hard out "lust" sort of day.

He leaned into his seat and closed his eyes, waiting for the light to change. 'I want you…'

He did want Reid. He wanted him so bad, and it was only recently that he'd allowed himself to admit it. There had always been a strange ache when he was near Reid, but he didn't understand it. It was an ache he'd never felt before, not even with his wife. This was unfamiliar. Fantasies he had no idea resided inside himself were flashing through his brain like movie scenes. Reid bent over a desk, Reid on his knees looking up at him seductively, Reid stripped naked and handcuffed to the bed, looking utterly innocent and confused as Hotch came towards him…

The jackass behind him was honking loudly, and Hotch had to resist the urge to flip him off. That was odd; he was not the sort to experience road rage. Perhaps rock n' roll did have the power to change behavior, after all.

'She's so….'

He frowned. That was one part of the song that didn't fit, which was strangely frustrating. Oh well. He would have to pretend that the "she" was replaced with a "he" –Reid- and it would be fine.

Jesus, this was a good song. So wonderfully simple. Apart from the "she", it so perfectly captured the obsession that he found so disturbing. Reid was always somewhere in his head, and it was becoming quite a problem. He pictured Reid everywhere. He couldn't get into his car in the morning without imagining Reid in the backseat, sweaty and panting as Hotch groped at him like a teenager.

And the kissing. Somewhere in his mind, there was always the image of him kissing Reid. Always fiercely, always slamming Reid against a wall as he kissed and bit his beautifully angular jawline. And Reid always looking surprised. Starting off surprised and protesting but eventually he is overcome with passion and begging Hotch to touch him. The sound of Reid screaming his name melded with the screaming vocals and distorted guitar. It was like the song was falling apart but kept going because it couldn't do anything else; it just kept going until it couldn't go any longer. It admirably did not fade away, just stopped abruptly, like a smack in the face. Much the way his fantasies were like a smack in the face; his fantasies and the sense he had that they would probably never come true.

He waited in the parking lot for another cycle of the song. He couldn't go in and see Reid, not now. At first, the daydreams had been fun. He looked forward to time alone where he could let his mind run wild –Reid under his desk during a conference call, Reid showing up at his house in the pouring rain, soaking wet, then there was that one of Reid sucking a lollipop. That one came out of left field- but now they hurt. They were so elaborate now that it felt like a separate life, but it wasn't a whole one. Only his mind could go there. He would never feel the touch of Reid's fingers on his skin, he would never be able to kiss Reid and taste the watermelon lollipop on his tongue. He would never be able to push all the contents of his desk onto the floor and throw Reid on top of it, pants down and desperate to feel Hotch inside of him.

He sat in the car, letting "Here Comes the Sun" run along for a while, but the optimism of it began to annoy him. He turned his car off, locked it, and walked to the building where the source of his pain sat waiting for him.

Come on, now, that's not fair, he thought. It's not like he's doing this on purpose. Right?

His breath caught in his throat when he saw Reid. He was spinning in his chair, his head leaned back. He got in another 360 degree turn before realizing he was not alone.

"Oh," he said, stopping himself by grabbing onto the desk. He was blushing deeply.

Oh God, Hotch gulped. The grey vest. He's wearing the grey vest again. He didn't know why, but he loved that vest. It was his favourite to rip from Reid's body before dragging him to the floor and pounding into him.

"Good morning, Hotch," Reid said bashfully.

Hotch nodded toward him in response. Say something to him, come on, you're alone, tell him how you feel…

Reid was drumming his fingers along the edge of the desk. Oh god, his hands-those fingers- His mind made him see himself, again, throwing Reid on the desk, on his back, kissing down his chest and…

"Excuse me," he choked out before rushing to his office. He didn't see Reid's confused and disappointed expression as he stared after his boss. The door slammed behind him, and that was that.

Hotch leaned against the door and closed his eyes. "God damn it."

He peered out from behind the blinds, watching Reid spin around in his chair again. He couldn't help but smile. "God," Hotch murmured. "I want him I want him…"

He sat down at his desk and put his head in his hands. This was going to be a long day.

'I want you so bad it's driving me mad it's driving me…'

The End