13 reviews for the first two chapters? Thank you so much everyone!
JisbonWrites: Thank you so much! And I just wanted to say that I went and looked on your profile and saw that your name was Laura... and I wanted to tell you that my name is Laura too! haha. Anywayyyyy;
He felt like he'd only been asleep for minutes, but when his eyes opened, he saw it was already 4am. Taking a moment to register what had woke him up, he first noticed the weight pressing against his side. Memories of the night before cleared some of the fuzziness from his brain. Second, he realized that the weight pushing against him was moving; fidgeting and twitching. Reid's eyes were still closed, but his body moved restlessly against him. "Spencer, wake up." He shook his gently, hoping not to startle him. Unfortunately, it didn't work. Spencer's eyes flew open and he struggled to sit up. Hotch held him back against his chest, giving him a moment to regain his awareness.
"Sick," he grunted, forcing himself out of Hotch's arms.
"The bathroom is first door on the right," Hotch said, getting up to follow Spencer into the bathroom. He barely made it in time to empty the pasta he'd eaten into the toilet. Hotch stood over him, placing a soothing hand on his back until he finally fell back against the wall.
"I'm sorry, I know it's unattractive, but I can't help it," Spencer said sheepishly. Hotch filled a dixie cup with water and handed it to Reid who swished it around in his mouth before spitting it into the toilet.
"You're sick, Spencer. It's not unattractive, I understand," Hotch soothed, crouching down next to his friend. "Do you have nightmares a lot? Do they make you sick?"
Spencer swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "I have nightmares almost every night, and I get sick every time I eat. My head always feels like it's going to split in two." His fingers rubbed against his eyes with a frustrated sigh.
Arm around Spencer's waist, he carefully helped him back into the hall. "Since we are awake, why don't we go lay down in bed. It's more comfortable," trying to make it sound casual, he was happy when Reid quietly agreed. Turning them to head to the end of the short hallway, he led them both into the dark bedroom. He turned down the bed and climbed in on his own side. Reid hesitated only a moment before slowly climbing in. Hotch was grateful to finally stretch out in his bed. Reaching for the button of his pants, he lifted his hips to take off his pants. Suddenly, it dawned on him that he wasn't sharing a bed with his wife, or someone who was just a lover.
"I'm sorry, would you rather I kept them on?" Even in the darkness, he could feel Reid's eyes on him.
"It's okay," he finally decided after a moment of thoughtfulness.
"How do you usually sleep? I think I have some flannel pants around here if you want." His offer was innocent, but he knew the implications of his words. Reid was silent for a moment, and Hotch waited patently.
"I don't have a particular way I like sleeping. I usually read before I go to bed and I just fall asleep in my clothes." Taking a chance, Hotch scooted closer and circled his arms around Reid's slender torso.
"You should try sleeping different ways, maybe you wont be so tired all day if you're comfortable." Hotch commented, pushing himself flush against Reid's back. Comforted by the slow, even way Spencer's body expanded with each breath he took.
"How did you know I'm tired all day?" Hotch was pleased to feel Reid settle back against him and he nuzzled against his shoulder. It had been a long time since he'd held someone like this. Even though it was, strangely, Spencer Reid; his younger, virgin, awkward, shy, subordinate and friend.
"I'm a profiler, Reid. I notice how you load up your cup with more sugar then coffee. The dark circles under your eyes tell me that you wake up way before your alarm clock. The way you sometimes seem to zone out says that you're depriving your body of the sleep that it needs, and it's trying to compensate by slowing you down. Now, what would make you most comfortable?" Reid shook slightly with silent laughter.
"I don't know, Aaron. I'm comfortable like this." The way Reid slipped the use of his first name in the sentence made Hotch's heart beat slightly faster. He squeezed Reid in a backwards hug, rubbing his fingers softly around Reid's prominent rib bones. He was way too skinny, he could feel every single bone move beneath Reid's soft skin. When Hotch's hand stroked down to Reid's hip, he let his fingers explore the shallow cave leading down to the hidden area beneath his pants. He pictured himself using the bones as handles, holding onto Reid as he was bent over in front of him. Surprised by his thoughts, even more surprised by the excitement they brought, Hotch let his hand slide to the middle of Reid's stomach.
"Maybe you'd be more comfortable a different way, though?" Hotch knew he sounded like a horny teenager, but he was simply captivated by the feminine yet firm curves of Reid's body. He took note that Reid's breathing had sped up.
"Hotch, I really... I don't know. I can't, I'm tired. My head- please." The pleading in Reid's wary voice made Aaron withdraw his hand. Understanding now that his reactions weren't out of anticipation, Hotch put some distance between their bodies. "No, hold me. It doesn't hurt so much when your close." Reid's voice was tiny and panicked as he pushed himself back against Hotch's bare chest.
"Spencer, it's okay I'm here. I'm sorry, I wont touch you." Reid's hands came up to grip his, locking their fingers together.
"Can we stay like this? Please, just like this. I don't know how this works, but can we just lay here?" The innocence of Reid's question pulled at the strings of Hotch's heart. He tightened his arms around Reid's body and placed a kiss on Reid's shoulder blade.
"Yes, Spencer. We can lay here for as long as you want, just like this," he promised, squeezing the fingers between his. The tension in Spencer's body eased, and Hotch tried to let himself relax too. He had another image of Jack crying after scraping his knee, always needing comfort afterward. He made a mental promise to not get to attached to whatever it was that Spencer and he had. How had they gone from a strictly professional relationship to something more exclusive all in one day? He couldn't believe that having this man pushed against his chest felt right; felt normal. Spencer's face turned and he rested his cheek against Hotch's forearm. Aaron felt the dampness against his skin and realized Spencer had been silently crying. "Don't cry. What's wrong?" He sat up, leaning over Reid to see his face better.
"Nothings wrong, I just have these moments sometimes where I can't control my emotions... and ever since I've been getting these headaches it's been harder and harder to control them at all," his voice broke on the last few words, a few more tears dripping down his face.
"Whatever is causing these headaches will be identified and treated, or at least controlled," Hotch said seriously.
Reid managed a pained smile, "Whatever is causing them has no cure, Hotch. The cause doesn't go away."
Aaron resisted the urge to scream in frustration at Reid's melancholy attitude, "You don't know that for sure Reid. You may be incredibly bright, but you aren't a certified doctor or psychologist."
"And you aren't God, and the cause of these crippling headaches isn't an unsub. You can't profile it and stop it, Hotch." Spencer's voice was laced with slight annoyance, but Hotch didn't take it personally.
"You're right, but I don't think you should rule out things like extreme stress, being overly tired, or depression just yet." He knew how stressful their job was, and that Reid had a difficult time sleeping. He had even suspected for many years that Reid suffered from clinical depression, possibly an even deeper issue of suicidal thoughts. Unable to confirm it through out the years, he never said anything. Plus, if he said something that would mean he'd have to admit to profiling one of the team, which was the number one rule on what not to do at the B.A.U.
"Schizophrenia is a genetically passed mental illness, Hotch. People who fall ill with it due to genetics tend to start showing signs of it when they are around my age. It's usually triggered by other things over time, and eventually strengths to the point where functioning normally becomes impossible." Hotch tried to picture Reid having an episode; his words and brain failing him in ways it never had before. The young, brilliant, handsome, wonderful man would never be able to break out of the shell he'd locked himself in since childhood. He'd never get married, or have kids, or... be with him for a long time.
Unable to except the possible and likely reality, Hotch replied, "I know what it looks like, but I'm just saying that there is no reason to jump to conclusions without even diagnosing the root of the issue." He knew it was a poor argument, but he was tired and he didn't want to think about things like this right now. Reid remained quiet, seeming content to just lay cocooned in his arms.
Reid wanted to ask if Hotch would visit him when he was institutionalized. He wanted to ask if he'd miss having him on the team, or if solving cases would be slightly harder without his help. He wanted to know if Hotch would miss his constant rambling and statistics and social awkwardness at all the wrong times. Searching for the words, he found he was much too afraid of Hotch's answers to even formulate the questions. Swallowing his curiosity , he played with Hotch's fingers that were resting against his chest.
"I never cuddled with anyone before, but I like it," he said dumbly, changing the subject. He winced at his words, wondering if it was something he should have said. If they were inappropriate, Hotch didn't call him out on it.
"I do too, though Haley was never a big fan of cuddling at night. She needed her space to sleep." Spencer found himself reminiscing of the nights when he'd laid in his bed, alone, craving someones arms around him. The nights where he thought that inner sorrow and emptiness were just going o swallow him up. He'd always comforted himself by reminding himself that no one had ever died from intense inner emotional pain, at least not in the physical meaning of the word. Hotch yawned behind him, and he knew anything else they wanted to talk about would have to wait until tomorrow, if Hotch even wanted to continue talking. Maybe this was a one time deal, and tomorrow things would continue on as if nothing had ever happened. He felt that inner pain burn a little at his stomach, and decided not to think about it and just enjoy the moment. He knew he wasn't happy because he thought to much, and that prevented him from ever enjoying the present.
"Goodnight, Hotch." He said quietly, ending their conversation for the night. Hotch kissed the back of his neck and mumbled what sounded a lot like 'sleep tight' before the room fell silent again. Reid sensed Aaron was asleep in a matter of minutes, and was surprised to feel himself drifting off as well. The last thing he remembered feeling was Aaron's hands tightening around his.