Chapter 8: All That's Left Are The Sticks And The Stones

"You're more than good," Derek answered, low and husky, before drawing him into a slow-burning kiss that quelled the fears he'd felt rising up inside. He wrapped his arms around Derek's neck as Derek's hands glided over his bare chest and back, finally settling on his hips. Derek deepened the kiss, putting him into a trance that quickly broke when Derek reached for his belt. Despite himself, he flinched and Derek immediately pulled away.

'...here I am with a man I literally trust with my life...doing things I've been fantasizing about for years and yet...'

"Look at me," Derek instructed. When he did, Derek's concerned eyes made him wince. "Are you okay Spencer? I know you said you're not upset with me, but it's alright if..."

"No! It has nothing to do with the other night or even just you." He rolled off the other man's lap, his eyes on the floor. "I'm not exactly used to people wanting to touch me."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Derek's flabbergasted face. "Really?" Derek asked, "I mean, you just said you had...practice and I can't understand how someone could resist the urge to touch you after...or really...even before..."

He shrugged. "It's to be expected when you find yourself being sexual almost exclusively with 'straight' men." He felt more than saw Derek flinch. "They were more than willing to let me touch them, but they generally didn't want to touch me back. Well, that and they wanted to do anal without a condom because apparently a condom signals that you're doing it on purpose and therefore, gay. I may have been young and naïve, but thankfully I didn't make that mistake."

Derek was silent for a moment, the wheels in his head obviously turning. "Generally. So what happened when they did touch you?"

'...yeah, he would look past the rambling and notice that slip up...shit...'

He cleared his throat and licked his lips. "It doesn't matter," he lied.

"If that's true, why do you keep pulling away from me?"

"Because I...it was...oh fine," he sighed, unable to come up with an alternative explanation that made any sense at all. "When I was at Caltech, I tutored undergrads for extra cash...it's how I met a lot of the guys actually...they were closer to my age and I didn't have to go to a bar or anything. Anyway, just before I graduated, one of them confessed that he might be gay and umm...had heard I was, which wasn't technically true, but close enough I guess...either way, he wanted to test his theory." He paused, trying to find the right words. "I suppose me cumming in his mouth triggered his internalized homophobia and ahh...I'd been beaten up far worse before, so it wasn't too bad."

"Spencer, I..."

"It's okay." He saw doubt in Derek's eyes. "I'm a lot less jumpy than I used to be. And it's not that I think you're going to hurt me or that I don't trust you or that I don't want this...my body just has this annoying tendency to react in ways that are inconsistent with what I want. I guess I'm still not used to being desired because of how often it was used to trick me."

Derek's hand covered his and he fought the urge to pull away.

"Look, I might joke around a lot, but I'm serious when I say this...I want you and I want to make you feel good. If that means going slow and being gentle until you're comfortable with more, then that's what I'll do. But Spencer, you have to help by telling me what's okay and what's too much to handle. I need you to know you can always say no and I won't be mad or think less of you, okay?"

He bit the inside of his check. "Okay."

"I'd like to touch you now. May I?"

He nodded and Derek moved closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pulling him to his chest. The familiar position caused his muscles to relax and his breathing to slow. He became vaguely aware that Derek's other hand was lightly brushing his hair, then his cheek, then his jawline before it carefully tilted his chin up. A chaste kiss graced his lips, full of understanding and comfort. He's the one to deepen the kiss, to bring a hand up to the nape of Derek's neck, to press his tongue against the seal of Derek's lips.

Derek's hands slid to his hips and he let himself be guided back into Derek's lap. His lips felt an absence as Derek's mouth moved to his ear, licking, nibbling, whispering reassurances. Cautious fingertips grazed his nipples, eliciting a quiet moan, his back arching slightly, and as Derek gently pinched his right nipple, a jolt of pleasure swept through his body, causing him to roll his hips. A few times, Derek's hands traveled farther south, touching his thighs or his belt, but always found a way to be back on his nipples before his brain reacted negatively.

'...classical conditioning...or is it operant...? oh who frakkin cares...'

It still surprised him when Derek touched his belt and he thrust into the touch. The smile on Derek's face was intoxicating, and even though he wasn't entirely sure of himself, he started unbuckling his belt and let Derek help him out of the rest of his clothes. "God, Spencer, you're gorgeous," Derek had said before reaching between them to lazily stroke his erection. He whimpered, burying his face into Derek's neck, his hips bucking in time with Derek's movements. With all the buildup, it didn't take long for him to come, gasping Derek's name. He felt Derek prop him up with one hand, obviously intent on making sure that Spencer saw him licking the cum off his hand.

He sighed sleepily, content. "I'm really tired," he said, even though it was rather apparent.

"Okay, would you like me to stay?" Derek asked. "I mean, I can just stay on the couch in case you need something in the night."

"Stay here a minute," he requested, getting up and going into his bedroom. Spencer quickly cleaned up, changed into some sweat pants, grabbed a pair Derek left the last time, and returned, holding them out, his eyes avoiding Derek's naked body.

"Thanks man," Derek said, putting them on before Spencer grabbed his wrist and led him into the bedroom. "No, thank you," he finally responded.

Derek kissed his forehead. "Let's get some rest."

When he fell asleep, he was nestled as tightly as humanly possible to Derek's chest.

A/N -

1) Sooooooooo...there are FOUR drafts of this chapter in my notebook (plus the major editing I do once I actually type it up makes this basically the 5th version), the first one being completely non-angsty (didn't feel right given how jumpy I'd been writing Reid) and another being super-angsty (but I didn't really want to whump on Reid). Somehow, the fluff has been in every version, heh.

2) Note to self: if you stopped reading other people's fanfic for hours at a time (and constantly checking your CM rss feed), you'd have a new chapter written yourself. Also, looking at lyrics for possible chapter titles when you already have 3 possible ones for the current chapter you're writing and 56+ in a list for later...seriously.

3) The next chapter assumes that if they have a case that lasts multiple days in which it appears that no one sleeps at all because they don't even mention a hotel room (I dunno how they do it and still have almost perfect aim, seriously), Hotch gives them a "do paperwork from home" day. Or at least a half a day off. They're in Cali for 3 nights, 4 days. I think a long weekend (case starts on Mon morning and is done by Thurs afternoon/evening) is well deserved.

4) Despite being a psych major, I still never fully understood the difference between operant and classical conditioning. Thankfully, Reid's brain is somewhat malfunctioning so that I don't have to figure out which it is. :-P Also, for the non-scifi geeks, "frak" is a word coined on Battlestar Galactica, so that the characters could swear without the censors getting in tizzy. I'm saving Reid saying fuck for later and found it appropriate since he talked about his BSG/philosophy paper a few chapters back (and ironically (?), in "Exit Wounds," Garcia uses "frak" when her phone goes dead).