Forever Is The Sweetest Con: Chapter One

forever is the sweetest con: chapter one

Forever Is The Sweetest Con: Chapter One

Chapter One: Genesis

A/N: hello there. glad to have you. I've got this posted on Ao3 already, but I've decided to crosspost here. Here we go.

Summary:

If asked now, he’d see it clearly. Where it started, how it started, and why. It all comes back to Tobias Hankel.

OR

Hotch/Reid through the years and what happens when things are left unsaid.

~000~

If asked now, he’d say it was obvious. Where things were going- where they’d always been going since that day in February, when the sharp chill of the Georgia air hardly touched the team when compared to the way fear turned their blood to ice in their veins.

In Aaron Hotchner’s veins, when the call came in.

JJ was gone, no one could reach her.

And Reid- Spencer- was gone, still, when they did eventually find her.

If asked now, he’d see it clearly. Where it started, how it started, and why.

It all comes back to Tobias Hankel.

“I choose-” He watched on in desperate fear, eyes never leaving the screen. He couldn’t bring himself to move, to look away, to close his eyes when he knew any second how that trigger could be pulled and Spencer Reid would disappear in front of him. “I choose Aaron Hotchner.”

All eyes turned to him, but he remained frozen. He heard the sharp intake of breath from his left, felt JJ’s eyes slide over his expression. His face remained neutral, schooled thanks to years in this role. He, despite what Reid might say, had the best poker face of them all.

“He’s a classic narcissist.” Hotch watched intently as Reid continued, looking for any slight of hand, any tell Reid could be giving. It was a message, and he knew that. He just needed the cipher. Come on, Reid, he thought. I need more than that. You’ve got to give me more than that.

“He thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4-” He burned the words into his memory. He needed to remember that, he knew it. He knew Reid. “Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, falseness, vanity, and futility. For these shall be his recompense-”

Thank you, Reid, his eyes finally, finally slid shut as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Thank you.

He turned on his heel, exiting the room. Out in the living room of that old, dank house, Hotch retrieved the bible left on the side table.

“I’m not a narcissist-” He started, ready to start translating Reid’s message.

“Come on, Aaron, you can’t take anything he said personally-”

“No, Gideon, stop, stop-” He snapped, frustrated. That’s not the point, how do you not get it? His mind raced, and he briefly wondered if this was how Reid felt every moment of the day. “Everybody right now, what’s my worst quality?”

The team stared at him blankly, and the wild streak of anger and impatience he worked so hard to control flared again. That’s not the fucking point, he wanted to scream at them. It’s right in front of you and you’re all missing it. “Stop worrying about hurting my fucking feelings- tell me, now. My worst quality. I’ll start. I have no sense of humor. Prentiss?”

“You trust men more than women.”

“Okay, JJ?”

“You’re a bully.”

“Alright, I’m a bully. Morgan, go.”

“You can be a drill sergeant sometimes.”

“Good, I’m all of those things,” And he was, he wasn’t blind to his own faults. Everything they had said was true, but- “Yet, none of you said I put myself above the team because I don’t. Ever.” Still, they didn’t get it, and he groaned in frustration. “Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism on the way here. He knew that I would remember that.”

“Hotch, we know you’re not a narcissist, man-”

“That’s not the point.” He finally snapped. “That’s not the fucking point, listen-” He looked up and finally, finally, he had their attention. “He quoted it wrong. Genesis chapter 23, verse 4, look-” He lifted the scripture into the light and read the correct quotation aloud. “I am a stranger and a sojourner with you, give me property for a burial place among you, that I might bury my dead out of my sight.” It registered with Gideon first, and Aaron could breathe a bit easier. “He wouldn’t get it wrong unless it was on purpose.” He insisted, holding eye contact. “He wouldn’t.”

“He’s in a cemetery.” Morgan muttered, and now Hotch could take a real breath.

The rest moved quickly. He did it, he found Reid, they were there and he just had to find where in the cemetery-

Then the shot rang out from just over the hill Aaron’s own two feet were standing on, and everything slowed down again as he ran towards it. “Reid!” He shouted. “Spencer!”

Not like this. Please, just not like this.

“Hotch?!” He doesn’t remember getting there. He doesn’t remember his path from the top of the hill down to the bottom, or who was following in his wake. He just remembers the relief flooding his chest as he pulled Spencer Reid off the earth and into his arms.

“You okay?” He muttered, one hand wrapped firmly around Reid’s waist while the other cradled his head.

“I knew you’d understand.” Spencer choked on a sob and tightened his hold, tears staining the collar of Hotch’s shirt. “I knew you’d understand.”

And so it began.

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2 years ago

K NSFW HC but before they get together, Hotch totally gets himself off to thoughts of Reid on the regular and then immediately feels horribly guilty about it, because he probably feels it’s disrespectful. Not that it stops him, of course. And then when they’re working together he tries TOO hard to remain professional in Reid’s presence but he ain’t fooling anyone about his feelings for the genius, except maybe Reid.

I feel like Hotch could give a Catholic a run for their money with his giant guilt-complex, just saying.

Hnnnn GOD I am probably too exhausted/buzzed to be doing this but I can’t stop thinking about it so HERE WE GO:

NSFW

Under the cut cause it’s about to get X-rated in here

You are 100% right about his guilt-complex, because he is an adult and the Unit Chief and he has responsibilities and dozens of people to look after and monitor and a whole ass department to run (not to mention he’s got a son, and an ex-wife, possibly going through the divorce at this point or we’re after that (but not to Foyet yet) and he’s just got so much on his plate all the damn time) -- and he should not, CAN NOT, be getting lost in thoughts about the youngest member of his team. 

But he does, on the regular, and he can’t seem to stop. 

Even if it started out a little lighter, like a crush (and dear God he hasn’t had a crush since grad school what is wrong with him) where he can’t stop staring at Reid and always pairs them up for canvasing and questioning and on cases. So often, so much, that it’s really only a matter of time before those constant, all-consuming thoughts bleed into when Reid isn’t even there. When no one is there. The only person left that could judge him being himself --

But sometimes, what plays out behind his eyes is so good, he doesn’t even care.

Lying in bed, sitting in his chair in his home office, in the shower where the deluge of too warm water always drudges up vivid, elaborate thoughts before he can tamper them back down. Memories of the day that don’t have anything to do with what happened or any events taking place -- his head is instead filled with the smallest details. Pieces of Spencer that get placed together bit by bit to remind Hotch why exactly he’s been staring so hard lately.

Because Reid is...  unbelievably gorgeous and Hotch just can’t bring himself to look away.

The way his profile is exquisite to watch, while he works or while he’s reading, deep in thought and lips moving as he reads even faster than his eyes can register. The sharpening lines of his jaw, the careful curve of his nose and roundness to his lips. How he licks his lips in that gesture that’s just the slightest slip of a pink, soft tongue that is far too spell-binding and shouldn’t be leaving Hotch in a daze but it does. How his mouth goes a reddish pink with the cold and stands out stark against his face, like those lips have been over-worked somehow--

Hotch will usually shake his head roughly at this point, to rid himself of that train of thought. But all it does is derail him into a different tangent.

Like his hands, he is obsessed with Reid’s hands and how they move when he talks. How lightly his fingers turn pages at rapid-speeds as he works and reads, how he can nimbly do things like make coins disappear or twirl a pencil through the long digits -- how they cradle a coffee cup in the mornings, when it’s far too early for Hotch to be thinking about how long and dexterous those fingers are and what it would feel like to one day have them slip beneath the waistband of his pants and take hold of him fully. 

It’s around this time that he would give up and take matters into his own hand, quite literally, and allow himself to let that residual guilt about authority and the bureau’s hierarchy (or the age difference, God) just fall away and he let’s himself think of Reid. Of Spencer, who has told him a few times he doesn’t mind Hotch calling him that -- not everyone, but with Hotch it’s okay. A small smile there when he says it. Hotch could lose himself in that smile, in the slight curves and angles of his body, of the lines of his neck and the mess of curls he can never tame and those overly expressive eyes that always watch him back so earnestly and --

And he’ll let his head tip back, or forward (depending where he is, in the shower he can’t do anything but brace himself against the wall in case his knees give out) and think of those eyes and that mouth and his hands and how if given the chance Hotch could absolutely wreck him and never stop. He’ll stroke himself slow and languid at first, and imagine it’s Spencer’s hand and not his own, that studious gaze on him and him alone and he’ll feel picked apart and dissected in the best possible fucking way, like his hand around Hotch’s cock is a learning experience, an experiment that needs to be conducted over and over again until he finds the just right way to make the older man’s spine melt and his toes curl.

And fuck Hotch would let him. He’d show him everything he could, everything he knows and everything he only knows in theory. The things they could discover together...

He’ll imagine every scenario, every position, ever sound that would escape that mouth, and the filthy things they could share through mere touch, until he’s fucking his own fist as it all builds higher and higher, and before he even knows it he’s coming so hard it’s a wonder he actually managed that all on his own. Alone. Spencer isn’t actually there --

And then the guilt would crash down around him violently, and Hotch wouldn’t be able to look Reid in the eye for days. To the point the younger man probably thinks Hotch is mad at him. Talk about heart-breaking. Reid looking so down-trodden and trying to make it up to him when all Hotch is trying to do is put SPACE between them so he can stop thinking about Reid constantly. Eventually relenting and telling Reid ‘no, I’m not mad at you, I promise’ just to see him smile again.

Until once day, not too long after all of that, the sun will catch Reid’s profile just right, stopping Hotch in his tracks, and he’ll stare too long and it’ll start all over again...


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2 years ago
My Beautiful Idiots 
My Beautiful Idiots 
My Beautiful Idiots 
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2 years ago

have the overwhelming urge to call him pookie bear 🤧

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2 years ago

I just rewatched 1x8 (natural born killer) and the end makes me so 😕😕

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I want to hug him a lot


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