Hey dear readers!
Thanks ever so much for alerting, reviewing, and even faving (*squee!*). This chapter is rather short but I just realised that it has a teensy little bit of M in it... You are warned!
- HOTCHNER'S BEDROOM -
He still couldn't get his head around it. Downstairs, just a few metres away, Spencer was sleeping peacefully on his sofa. They had just been eating cake when his mother had told Reid that he looked very tired, that it was too late for him to go home now and she had asked whether he wanted to stay here for the night. While the tiny voice had announced, "Mum, I love you for this!", reason had kept quiet. Either it was offended because Hotch kept ignoring it, or it had simply given up on him. Probably the latter, he thought while looking sternly at his plate, I'm a hopeless case. When his mother had asked him whether he was all right with this he had pretended that he couldn't care less where Reid slept.
While he had brought Jack to bed and had read him a bedtime story, his mother had helped his subordinate preparing a makeshift bed out of their sofa, a blanket and some cushions. Then she had said goodbye to them and had left. He remembered how he had felt the excitement in his chest rise again when it had been just the two of them.
And now here they were, sleeping in the same house! To be accurate, he himself wasn't able to sleep, even though he felt extremely tired. He had to think about this evening over and over again. And tomorrow he would have breakfast with his friend!
"Why don't we agree on calling him your crush.", suggested the tiny voice which was probably love, or perhaps obsession, and Hotch silently thought that it was right. He did love Reid, even if he didn't like to admit it. He approved of reason's opinion that it had to stop, obviously. He took a mental note that the present situation had to be the last time he paid special attention to his... (let's face it) beloved. Now that he had acknowledged the truth it certainly would be easier to overcome these feelings. Acceptance was always the first step to the solution of a problem, he remembered.
This thought calmed him down a bit but he still couldn't fall asleep. Finally, he got up and stood by the window, looking down on the calm and dark street, thinking of nothing but that he wanted Reid to be all right. If only his headaches turned out to be harmless.
His alarm clock roused him from a deep and dreamless sleep. He had gone to bed again early in the morning and now he was exhausted by a mostly sleepless night. He dozily pressed the off-button. He didn't want to get up. Not yet. He moaned in his cushion when he became aware of his morning hard-on. Not good. Immediately, thoughts of Reid filled his mind; how deliciously tender Reid's neck looked; how good it had felt to touch his back in the plane; how their legs had been pressed against each other; how he had held his hand. And he remembered how they had embraced after Reid had been abducted and tortured by Tobias Henkel. At that time he hadn't felt anything like love but now this was one of his few precious memories of Spencer. He closed his eyes and suppressed another moan. What should he do? He had to get up, right now, or he would be late. He had to get rid of his 'morning glory' at this very instant. But if he went to the bathroom to have a cold shower Reid might see him. He didn't worry about Jack, his son was still in bed and getting him out of it always required rather creative waking methods. God, what would Haley think of this?
He swore under his breath. Why hadn't he thought of this problem before? Goodness, did Reid face the same dilemma? His mind had no difficulties at all producing correspondent images. "Don't. You. Even. Dare. To. Think. About. It!", reason shouted, while the little voice in his head whispered things that evoked pictures of himself lying on the sofa with Spencer, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing those gorgeous lips, being the one causing said problem. He had started to breathe heavily. How blissful it would be...
Eventually, Hotch gave in to reason. He climbed out of bed and went to the door. He opened it a teensy bit and glanced into the corridor. He didn't see or hear anyone. Excellent. He opened the door a bit more and stuck his head out. No one there. He sighed with relief and hurried to the bathroom, quickly closing the door behind him.
Then he realised he'd have to dash to be on time to bring Jack to the kindergarten. This thought wiped out all remainders of Reid-related images in a quite effective way.