A/N – I considered letting this fic devolve into nothing but smut, but I decided against it. On the other hand, that leaves me room for another sequel, so yay! lol

"The most glorious moments in your life are not the so-called days of success, but rather those days when out of dejection and despair you feel rise in you a challenge to life, and the promise of future accomplishments." Gustave Flaubert

Chapter 7 – Challenges and Promises

"Derek told me that you've had relationships with men in the past," Hotch said to Dave one evening a few days later.

Their relationship—if you could call it that, he thought idly—had continued on at much the same rate, not progressing past kissing as of yet. Dave seemed to have no problem with that, but Hotch had found himself wondering if that was only for his benefit, or because that was just how his friend operated in all of his relationships.

"I wondered when he'd mention that to you," was Dave's mysterious answer.

"Were you telling the truth?"

"I might have exaggerated a tad about the number of relationships I've had with men," Dave said with a slightly contrite look.

"A tad?" Hotch peered closely at him.

"A tad," his friend shrugged. "I've only been in two serious relationships with men, but have had more than half a dozen random trysts over the years with a few others."

"Any currently?" He asked, trying not to let himself feel jealous over the idea of Dave being with someone else. It's not as though we've actually been together, anyway.

"No. Hotch," Dave looked squarely at him and then reached out to take his hand. "I know there are many rumors about me out there, but for the most part, they really aren't true. I might play the field from time to time, but only with one person at a time. I don't cheat on people I'm with. And I don't share either," he stated pointedly.

Hotch felt himself relax at his friend's admission. To emphasize that, he squeezed Dave's hand and then was gratified to feel him squeeze back.

"Are you certain that I can keep your attention?" He asked, hoping that he didn't look as anxious as he felt.

"You've kept my attention for a long time, Hotch. There's no reason to think that will change anytime soon," Dave's face was completely serious, and he found himself nodding back silently at him.

"How long?" His throat a bit raspy.

"Since we met," Dave whispered after a period of silence. "I found myself drawn to you, and that attraction hasn't let up since."

"Attracted physically?" He asked tensely, trying to withdraw his hand as memories of Michael abruptly clouded his mind.

"Actually, it was your mind that drew me in initially," Dave answered, tightening his hold on Hotch's hand. "And your loyalty."

Abruptly, he found himself slumping back into the couch as Dave's words finally sunk in.

"Michael said that it was my power and presence that made him want me," he admitted slowly. Even after all the time that he had spent with Dave, he still hadn't told his friend all the details of his abduction.

"He told me that and then he hit me," Hotch added, his eyes distant as he recalled the memory.

Dave let go of his hand and slipped his arm around Hotch's shoulders.

"That man is a sick fucker who deserves to be locked up for the rest of his life," was his friend's vehemently spoken statement.

"He said I was his 'whore,'" he added in a whisper.

"That bastard," Dave growled out beside him. "You were nothing more than his victim. If I could make him pay more than he is right now . . ." the older man trailed off.

"Because he hurt me?" Hotch asked, returning to one of their reoccurring conversations.

"Because he hurt you," Dave corrected, grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.

"And that's not okay," he responded a bit breathlessly when they separated.

"Damn right it's not," Dave answered, finishing their conversation effectively with another mind numbing kiss.

. . .

They got ready for bed that night, like they had been every day that week. Dave was still insisting on their sharing a bed, and while Hotch had argued the point a bit, he hadn't really been too unhappy with the arrangement. If nothing else, at least his nightmares didn't leave him gasping and alone in the dark anymore.

"Dave?" Hotch asked after the lights were out and they were both in bed, curled up close to one another. It was still strange how safe he felt next to his friend.

"Hm?"

"Can I touch you?" He whispered, not entirely confident that he could do this.

"Say again, Hotch?" Dave leaned in closer, laying his hand on Hotch's shoulder.

"I want to touch you," he answered in a louder voice.

"Go ahead then," Dave's voice was encouraging, if a bit breathless.

What on earth am I doing? The rational side of his brain tried to argue.

Fingers trembling, he reached out his hand to touch Dave's chest through his t-shirt. It was warm, even through the cotton. He slid his fingers over to his friend's bare arm, rubbing his thumb over the soft hair that was there. He didn't need light to know that the hair was black, but it did send a throb through his gut to wonder if all of Dave's hair would turn out to be that color.

"Take your shirt off," he ordered, feeling the fluttery beginnings of both anxiety and excitement begin working in his stomach as Dave wordlessly obeyed.

"Hotch—?" Dave started to ask, only to be hushed by him.

Touching Dave's bare chest gave him an undeniable thrill. He touched the other man's stomach, tracing a fingernail around the edges of his navel, before moving his hand up to where he thought his nipple was. Dave's answering gasp was enough to tell him that he was right and he smiled to himself in the dark. It was empowering to him that he could excite Dave by just touching his hands to him.

If this is how he responds to just my fingers, the thought made him smile again. He liked being in control.

Barely hesitating, he raised himself up on an arm and brought his mouth down over Dave's nearest nipple.

"Holy—," Dave hissed, bucking up under his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the small nub and then gently bit down. He was rewarded with a gasp, but no other exclamations. Deciding to change things up once more, he released his prize and then leaned over and bit down on the other, only a bit harder.

"Hotch," Dave wheezed, his hands going up to grasp his shoulders. Satisfied with his experiment, he opened his mouth and lay back down beside Dave, whose breathing was now markedly different from his own.

"Does that mean I get to touch you now?" Dave asked after it became clear that he was done for the moment.

"Depends on where you want to touch," he answered back quickly. Memories of waking up naked with Michael waiting behind him were still rather close to the surface of his mind.

"Same places you did," was Dave's reply.

"Ask me again."

"Hotch," he could feel Dave's hot breath against his cheek and knew that he was safe. "Can I touch you?"

"Yes," Hotch answered, his teeth not quite gritted.

"Shirt off?"

He complied, pulling it off quickly, not giving himself a chance to back out. The idea of making new memories with Dave appealed to him, even through his anxiety over the act itself. The air was cool on his skin, making the touch of his friend's warm calloused hands on his flesh just that much more noticeable.

"I love how you smell, Hotch," Dave said, rubbing his nose across his stomach.

"Better not be a pretty smell," he answered, trying to make his voice light to hide his own revulsion for the connotations of that memory.

"It's a smell of strength, of fortitude," Dave answered, his goatee tickling his stomach, making him squirm. "Ticklish much, Hotch?" His friend laughed into his chest.

"Not on your life," he growled, playfully batting at Dave's hands.

"Maybe later then."

"Maybe," he answered in a low voice, his mind beginning to drift back over to the feel of Michael's unwanted hands touching his body.

"Hotch," Dave growled at him, touching a hand to his shoulder and then kissing him hard. The kiss did more than just relax him; it reminded him of where he was and who with. Nobody kissed like Dave.

"I'm going to kiss your right nipple now, Hotch," Dave informed him in a rough voice, barely giving him time to catch his breath. The feel of Dave's hot lips on his flesh followed soon after, causing him to gasp in turn.

"And now your left," he could feel Dave shifting his body weight over to anoint the other half of his pectorals with that same oral praise. The touch of those lips calmed him and sent jolts of electricity down his spine at the same time.

"Dave," he ground out deeply, reaching out and attaching a hand to the man's shoulder. He could feel the muscles moving under his skin, and he took a deep breath to prepare himself for the next touch.

"Navel," his friend whispered, laying a trail of kisses down to the aforementioned body part. "Tongue," the man added in a gruff voice as he got there. Hotch felt the wet heat of Dave's slick tongue moving in and out of his navel and he gasped aloud, turning his head sideways at the intense of feel of it.

Such a little thing!

And then the immediate heat from Dave's mouth was gone, leaving his body nearly trembling from the overload of sensations that had been bestowed on it in such a short period of time.

"Are you okay?" Dave's voice was in his ear, his hand gently cupping the side of his face.

He nodded shakily, confident that his friend would be able to discern his answer from the hand still touching him.

"You're sure?" The older man's voice sounded worried, and really, he didn't blame him. He wasn't entirely sure that he was okay. He was still trembling, and finally Dave pulled him tightly in against himself, tucking Hotch's head under his chin. For some reason, it didn't seem odd to feel Dave's bare chest pressed up against his flesh.

"I don't know anymore," he finally whispered against the base of Dave's neck.

"It's okay, Hotch. I've got you," Dave replied as he continued to rub soothing circles into his back. "I've got you. You don't have to be okay with me."