H'lo everybody! I hope you enjoy this. It's been a really long time since I wrote a fanfiction, so I hope it's alright!

It's odd the way silence becomes its own sound. The steady hum of quiet filled up inside Hotchner's skull, but did not push his conflicted thoughts out. It made his head hurt even more. That could have been the drink in his hand, of course, but no. That was meant to help. Not that it was doing much good anyway.

The sudden knock on his door made him jump back, his knee slamming the top of his desk.

"Fuck." His breath hissed through his gritted teeth. He put the glass down and rubbed his knee. He stood up, a bit annoyed that he had not been alone after all. The sense of solitude had been strangely thrilling, but now he would have to explain himself to whoever was knocking. "Yeah, coming." He stood up and walked awkwardly to the door. His knee would definitely be bruised later.

Of course. He should have figured that it would be Spencer on the other side of the door. It seemed like he never left the office, especially lately.

"What is it, Reid." Hotch asked. His tone was always serious, but there was something harsh in his voice that made Spencer a little nervous.

"Oh, I was just, um, I saw your light on, so-" Reid mumbled, gesturing awkwardly at Hotch's office and back at his own desk.

"Yeah, I decided to stay a little late. Get some work done." Hotch said stonily. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, same." Reid put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Want to get a drink, or something?"

Hotch studied him. He liked Spencer, he was a good kid, but there was something about him, right now, that was just driving him crazy. Reid was making him feel –what was it? He felt uncomfortable, but couldn't figure out why. Suddenly much more self-conscious, less himself. It was like he was wearing another person's clothes, and they were too small for him.

"Sorry," Reid said, staring down at his feet now, "I'll just, get going. Let you get back to whatever you're doing."

He turned away, and Hotch couldn't help but see him as a sad little kid who had just been slapped across the palm with a ruler. That thought sent a warm rush through his body that settled where Hotch had not expected it to. "Reid," he found himself saying, "get in here." He turned and went back into his office, settling by his desk. He touched it gently, leaning a little. He felt light headed. Had he drunk that much? It didn't seem like it.

He turned and saw Spencer still lingering in the doorway. "Reid, get in here." Same words, but more forceful. Hotch noticed Spencer jumped a little. He finally came into the office, but kept his distance, like he knew something wasn't quite right.

"You could close the door," Hotch said. He let out a contemptuous, breathy laugh.

Spencer's forehead wrinkled. He looked sad again, and that image of a hurt and helpless Dr. Reid gave Hotchner chills.

Spencer hesitated a minute, watching his boss carefully, before deciding to believe there was nothing to worry about, and shut the door.

He trusts me so much that it's a bit pathetic, Hotch thought.

"Is everything okay?" Reid asked quietly. His arms were clasped in front of him, making him look more vulnerable than usual.

Hotch watched him for a few seconds. It delighted him a bit to see Reid shift uncomfortably, to see his eyes flicker to the window. Was he worried that the blinds were down? Hotch hoped so. Spencer seemed to grow more self-conscious as Hotch's dark eyes glared at him. Hotch was fine with that.

"Why did you come in here, Reid?" His voice was low and cold.

Spencer's eyebrows furrowed, "Sir?"

"You heard me, Reid, god damn it. Why did you come in here?"

"You, you just told me to-"

"No, why did you come knocking at the god damn door, Reid? What do you want?"

Was Spencer's heart beating faster now? Hotch strained to hear it. He made himself believe he could. Yes, it was beating much faster. And Reid's skin was probably dampening with a cold sweat.

Reid's mouth hung open slightly. He closed it, then opened again, but only a confused sound escaped his lips.

Hotch left his spot by the desk and walked, slowly, closer to where Spencer stood. "Don't you back away from me, Spencer," he growled as the young man took a step back.

"Sir, I'm not sure if I did something wrong, but, maybe I should just-"

"'Just'? Just what? Go?" He laughed, "Is that what you'd like to do?" Spencer's eyes were wide open. And, standing this close, Hotch could definitely hear his heart beating hard beneath his chest. "Don't play games like that with me, Spencer."

"Games like, what? I don't know what you're-"

"Don't play dumb, Spencer. I've seen you. For weeks now, you've been making it more than obvious."

"Making what obvious?" Spencer's voice dropped to what was not much more than a squeak. "Hotch, please, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm sorry if I've done something to upset you."

Hotch laughed. "Something to upset me? I know what you're doing, trying to make me look stupid." He stopped, wiping the gathering sweat from his forehead. He hardly knew what he was saying, but suddenly he was furious. "Don't think I haven't seen you." He lowered his voice and stepped closer, "Don't think I haven't seen you, watching me."

Spencer went pale. He stepped back, away from his boss. He stumbled a little, but hardly seemed to notice. "Hotch," his voice cracked, "Hotch, I don't know what is going on." He looked at the desk, at the glass of whiskey. "Sir, if you want to be alone, it's fine, I can leave." He backed closer to the door, reaching out for the handle. Hotch moved briskly passed him, and put one hand on the doorknob. He locked it with the other. Just in case there was a janitor or somebody outside, couldn't be too careful.

Hotch was growing harder. It was humiliating, the way the sight of a scared and trusting young man was affecting him. And Spencer Reid did trust him, didn't he? He trusted him with his life, every day. He knew that what he was doing would ruin their work together. It would destroy the team, wouldn't it? But he couldn't care less about that now. What was it he even wanted? It was as if his body had taken over; he was possessed and listening from somewhere else as a voice much like his said to his young subordinate, "You're not going anywhere right now, Spencer."

He reached out and snatched Reid's hair, holding his head back. Reid yelped, holding his hands up by his face automatically. A strange, nervous smiled formed on Spencer's face. It was unsettling the way he smiled, like he thought this was some kind of bizarre misunderstanding. It wasn't.

"You think this is a joke, Reid?" He pulled his hair back more, shaking him, "Do you?"

"No, sir," the smile fell. "Hotch, please, you're hurting me."

"Good." He released Reid's hair and shoved him, sending him against the wall. He hit it hard, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped for air, holding his hand to his chest. Before he could have the chance to move, Hotchner was against him, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of Reid's head. "You think I haven't seen the way you've been looking at me, Spencer? You think I don't know what's going on inside that head of yours? You think I'm stupid?"

Spencer coughed and gasped, trying to get air back into his lungs. "Hotch," he choked out, "No, of course not…"

Hotchner slammed his hand against the wall, and shivered when he saw the way it made Spencer jump. He smiled slyly. "You like to fuck men, Reid?"

Spencer's eyes widened. He made a pathetic gasping sound, like he was holding back tears. "What?"

"You heard me, Reid. ..?" He stared hard at Spencer. He looked so afraid, Hotch almost felt sorry for him. But it was affecting him in another way, too, one that was much stronger.

Reid steadied his gaze, and at last calmly said "That's not really any of your business, sir."

Hotch's eyebrows rose. "Oh? Is that so?" He laughed. "I knew it. Spencer Reid is a little sissy boy."

Spencer's eyes dropped shamefully, "No, no I'm not."

"No? You're telling me you like to be fucked in the ass but you're not a faggot?" Spencer flinched. That was never a word that he thought Hotch would utter, never. "Tell me, Spencer, if you aren't a queer, what do you think of this?" Without thinking, he closed the gap between them. His lips pressed against Spencer's, hard. A muffled cry remained trapped in Spencer's mouth. It remained tightly closed against Hotch's harsh kiss and his forward tongue. Hotch broke away from the kiss only long enough to say "Open your mouth, god damn you, open it." A small tear rolled down Spencer's cheek as he complied. His lips parted, only slightly, just enough encouragement for Hotch to attach his mouth again, feverishly sucking his lips and pushing his tongue through them. Reid's lips were soft. His mouth was warm.

Hotch's dick had become painfully hard. He pressed his pleading erection against Reid's slender thigh, subtly grinding his hips.

He broke the kiss at last. His hands snaked up Reid's shoulders and around his neck, massaging him, clawing at him, and he buried his face into Reid's neck, kissing the soft skin and biting at it. Reid was making incoherent sounds now, protesting and pushing against his boss, but very weakly. Hotch was thrilled when he realized Reid was hard, too, that Reid's erection was pressing into Hotch's leg.

"What have we here, Reid?" Hotch mumbled into the young man's throat. His hands were tangled up in Spencer's hair, his lips against his jaw line, kissing and licking. "You want me to touch it, don't you?"

"Hotch, please no," Spencer pleaded. His eyes were shut, but the tears were still managing to escape.

Hotchner's hand slid down the young man's body, rubbing his shoulder, his chest, clutching and pulling at his sweater vest as it traveled down. He hung onto Spencer's belt for a moment, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric there. It was warm. He wanted to feel that. But not yet, now he left his hand where it could be seen, and it snaked down Reid's leg. He roughly massaged Reid's thigh, wrinkling the khaki pants that Reid had probably ironed that morning.

He slowly let his hand move up; teasingly slow, until he finally let it rest between Reid's legs. Both men gasped. Reid's knees buckled slightly, but Hotch had him gripped around the waist. He pressed against him, sighing into Reid's neck and rubbing his hand on the impressively sized cock beneath it.

"Wow, Reid," Hotch sighed. "I never saw that coming."

Reid's eyes were still tightly closed. His face was clenched in an expression that turned Hotch on even more. It was an expression of fear, but mostly of shameful enjoyment. "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Spencer?" His lips brushed against Spencer's. He knew the younger man was enjoying it, on some level. His cock was throbbing, growing even bigger.

"Hotch," Reid managed to gasp, "Hotch, please."

Hotch grinned wickedly and released Reid, earning a gasp from his subordinate's lips.

"Nhh-" a strange moan came from Reid's throat as his hips bucked forward. The loss of contact was jarring.

Reid tried again to move, to get out of Hotchner's reach. He was weaker, now. His legs felt wobbly and useless. Hotch easily took hold of him and pushed him back against the wall. He leaned in close, their cheeks touching. "You're sick, you know that?" His tongue darted out and licked Reid's ear. "I bet you like having your cock sucked, don't you?"

"Hotch," Spencer pleaded, "Hotch, please stop."

"Sir. That is what you will call me, Spencer."

Spencer shook his head, "No. Please, let me go. It's fine, you won't get in trouble, I won't tell anybody else in the team. You're drinking, it's not your fault."

"I'm what?" Hotchner's eyes were dark and frightening, "What did you say to me? Did you dare say that to me, you little bitch?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm sorry." Reid was shaking. "I didn't mean it, I'm sorry."

"That's right, you little sissy boy. Now, let's try this again. Do you want me to suck your cock, Spencer?"

There was a weighted silence between them before Spencer finally choked out a "yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

Hotch grinned. "Maybe if you're a good boy." He stroked Spencer's hair softly before grabbing a fistful. "Get over to the desk."

"Sir, please," Reid cried, "whatever you're thinking of doing, please, you don't have to do it."

Hotch laughed coldly. "Thank you, Dr. Reid, that is very informative. Now go to my desk, and bend over."

A deliciously terrified look came over Spencer's face. Hotch couldn't resist, he began to touch himself. This made Reid's eyes widen even more, and his lip began to quiver. But slowly, he did what he was told. He made his way to the desk, hesitating. He looked back at Hotch with pleading eyes.

"Don't just stand there, Reid, bend over."

Reid let out a humiliated cry, but complied. He buried his face in his hands and waited for his boss to follow him. Hotch circled around to the other side of the desk and opened up one of the drawers. He pulled out a half empty bottle of lube. He'd started bringing lube to the office when he realized how badly he needed to jack off at the end of the day. He knew it was perfectly normal, that it was a release, and that with his stressful job, it was entirely understandable. But what he hated himself for was the way Reid always was in his thoughts as he touched himself. That when he was around Reid, that was when his "problem" seemed to develop. That Reid's body was all he thought of as he came. And now he had him, bent over his desk, crying and waiting for him. He undid his belt as he walked to Reid. The sound of his fly unzipping seemed incredibly loud in the silent room. The pants dropped to his ankles. He took his jacket off and threw it away from him.

"Now yours, Spencer." His hands snaked around Reid's hips, darting down to Reid's still hard dick, rubbing it to make sure Reid remembered this was Hotch's. He could touch it if he wanted, when he wanted.

Hotch never expected the jingle of a belt to be so erotic, but the sound of Reid's as he unclasped it made him moan with anticipation. He unzipped him and impatiently tore down Reid's pants and boxers. Reid made a low sobbing sound, "Hotchner, please, I'm begging you don't do this. Please, I've never done this before."

"What, a little slut like you? I find that hard to believe." He squeezed the lube onto his hand, the stickiness oozing through his fingers, and he coated his dick with it. He wiped the rest of it in Reid's ass, his finger circling the small entrance, and poking in just a little. Reid flinched, but his hips moved back against his boss. He was mumbling "No", and "please", but his resolve seemed to be gone. "I want you to know," Hotchner hissed into Reid's ear, "that this," holding up his still sticky hand, "is not for you. This is not to make you more comfortable. I am just tired of you giving me such a god damn hard time, and this is so I can fuck you as easily as I want. Understood?" Reid nodded desperately. "Good." Hotch took hold of Reid's hips, and moved himself so the tip of his cock was wedged against the small orifice. He pushed in, just a little.

"Ungh," Hotch groaned. He liked it like this, slow, savouring the feeling of Reid's body squeezing against his aching dick. "You're so tight. Maybe you are a sissy virgin after all." He pushed in deeper. Reid squirmed, a small, pained sound escaping his lips. "Relax," Hotch said softly. "If you tense up, it will just be more difficult for you."

Reid looked back at him. Tears were running down his face. "Stop, please."

Hotch's eyes were closed. He pushed in just a bit more, and there. He was all the way inside of Spencer. His head dropped. The woozy feeling began to come back, and his knees felt weak. "Do you know how good this feels…" he said quietly, not really to Spencer at all. He pulled back out, slowly. Spencer cried.

"Please, sir, Aaron, please I'm begging you to stop." He squirmed more, but he could not escape. He was pinned between the desk, and between the man he had thought would never hurt him.

Aaron was moving in and out now, his fingers digging into Spencer's slender hips. He hoped they would leave marks. He wanted Spencer to see those bruises and think of him. To make it so he could not forget tonight. He could try to dissociate, if he wanted, but those marks were still there.

"Oh, god, Oh god, Reid," Hotch was slamming against Reid more desperately, savoring the tightness and the warmth and the pained sounds coming from the man beneath him. It wasn't just pain, was it? Spencer was enjoying this, even if he didn't want to admit it. Hotch reached in front and held onto Reid's cock. "You're still quite hard, aren't you?" He sighed. His hand began to move in rhythm with his own hips. Reid moaned, he squirmed, and he pressed back into his boss. Grunts were escaping his pretty mouth, and salty tears hit his tongue.

"Fuck," Hotch groaned, "Fuck, Reid, I'm coming, fuck," He pushed himself in, hard, and Reid felt a pulsing inside him.

Hotch pushed softly into Reid several more times, each pulse driving the movement. He stopped finally, the euphoria spreading all over his body. They stayed like that for a while, him leaning against Reid's back. They were both sweaty, with mussed hair. Reid's sweater had been pushed up, tangled and wrinkled, exposing his lean chest.

"Don't worry, Reid," Hotch's voice was raspy. "I haven't forgotten about you. Turn around."

Reid turned slowly. His face was red, though Hotch wasn't sure it was from the crying. Reid was still hard. It was beautiful. Hotch was in awe of the thin hips, the pronounced hip bones and flat stomach, and then the thick and beautiful penis between his legs. Hotch dropped to his knees, and held onto Reid's hips. He nuzzled Spencer's erection, licking now and again. Spencer's head rolled back while he held onto the desk for support. He was licking his lips and pushing against Hotch's face.

For the first time that night, Hotch felt nervous. So far it had all been about his own pleasure. Why was he bothering with Spencer's? Maybe it was just that it was too tempting, it was there, this beautiful thing that he could manipulate. But what if he couldn't make him come? He had never done this before. But no, he could not hesitate. He could not show Reid his apprehension.

He pursed his lips against the tip of Reid's dick. Reid let out a cry and tried to push himself deeper into Hotch's mouth. Hotch gagged, and pushed Reid's hips back.

"No." He glared up at Spencer. Then he smiled. "I knew you wanted this."

Spencer shook his head. "No, no I don't." But his eyes were gently closed and he was swaying. The pre cum was dribbling from the tip of Reid's cock. Hotch licked it up with a single, strong stroke, his eyes never leaving Reid's face. It was torture; he wanted Reid in his mouth. He greedily took him in, deep, his tongue rubbing underneath, where he knew it was sensitive. He sucked, moving his head back and forth. Reid grabbed his boss by the back of the hair, moving him faster.

"Your….your tongue- please," Spencer moaned helplessly.

Hotch decided to be just a little merciful, and complied. His tongue circled the top of Reid's cock, sliding beneath it, lapping desperately. It was sloppy, and probably not with the greatest technique, but he didn't care. He just wanted to taste Reid, at last. It was suddenly what he wanted more than anything. He moved faster, sucked harder, running his hands up and down Reid's thighs. Reid gasped and squeezed his fist, tightening his grasp on Aaron's hair.

"No, no…" Reid moaned.

Hotch sucked one last time, and suddenly his mouth was filled with something warm and tangy. He gagged at first, but he didn't want any of it leaving his mouth. He wanted Reid's cum inside of him. He wanted Reid to know he had swallowed it, that he was controlling everything. When the throbbing in his mouth slowed, he pulled away, wiping his wet lips on the back of his sleeve. Reid's legs became weak, and he dropped to the floor. Hotch reached out, trying to catch him.

"Careful," he said, and immediately regretted it. There was silence between them. It was terrifying. The high that Aaron had been riding was crashing down, now, and the full reality hit him. His thoughts were panicked and scrambled. He was screaming in his head. He was sure Reid could hear his thoughts. "Reid, I-" He finally looked up at him. Reid's face was blank, staring at the floor. He was nonresponsive for what seemed like forever. Finally, he looked up, and met Hotch's gaze. His stare was surprisingly direct, and made Hotch cower.

And then Reid smiled.

Hotch crinkled his forehead. Why was he smiling? What was he planning to do? He was going to tell someone, of course. He was going to get Hotch sent to prison. He expected to hear "I hope it was worth it, because you're going away for a long time, you sick old fuck."

But he didn't say that. He kept smiling, and then said with a scratchy voice, "You noticed."

"I…what?"

"You finally took the hint." Reid blushed. "I was kind of afraid you didn't notice me and how I've been watching you." He chuckled. "Took you long enough."

Hotch was speechless. Yes, he had noticed Reid looking at him, but he'd only made the insinuations as to why to humiliate him.

Reid got on all fours, leaning forward and brushing his cheek against Hotch's. "I knew you'd understand," he whispered.