Crossed arms!Hotch will always be sexy.
Hotch smiled and fingered his tie. He glanced down at Anderson.
“And to think, I wasn’t going to wear one today.” Hotch joked, feeling Anderson’s breath ghost over his neck as he chuckled.
"You can take it off, I won’t mind. It’s been a long day and you hardly ever relax." he was toying with the knot of Hotch’s tie, all kinds of wondrous things turning through his mind, not the least of which was what the hell would he do if he actually got the Unit Chief out of his tie. What would Anderson do if he got him out of more than his tie.
Hotch bit his lip, his nostrils flaring when Anderson pulled on his tie and loosened the knot. He reached for his tie and they both rid him of it, Anderson watching as Hotch undid the first two buttons. “I’m not usually one for relaxing.” Hotch said, looking at Anderson. “I can help change that, if you want.” Anderson replied, pressing his lips against Hotch’s.
"Is it too cliche if I ask what exactly you have in mind?" dimples formed in Hotch’s cheek, a little whistle coming from his lips when Anderson nipped his throat. "The couch." Anderson barely mumbled it, couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth but unwilling to take them back. This was the BAU, this was territory not to be tread on. So maybe if they had a little lay down neither would have to worry about where their feet ended up.
Hotch let his eyes fall shut, mulling over Anderson’s response. He knew they shouldn’t, not here. There were rules for a reason. But Hotch’s mind was busy focusing on more pressing matters, such as Anderson sucking at his neck, to even begin to care.
Hotch moved them towards the couch opposite Hotch’s desk, his hands feeling and touching all he could reach.
His skin smelled so good, it tasted so good, it was Anderson’s heaven. Hotch didn’t usually take charge in the bedroom; he knew Anderson could give him all he needed. But this wasn’t the bedroom. This was the castle and Hotch was the king. While it wouldn’t be the first time that Anderson submitted, he wondered just what was on his boss and lover’s mind when he ended up with his back on the couch, Hotch on top of him, and shirt undone. “Take what you need.” he whispered before Hotch’s mouth could overtake his. “Its not about need, Grant…its all about want.”
The only sound that could be heard was their harsh breathing filling the room. Hotch gripped Anderson’s hips and slowly moved his hands up his body. He opened the first button and licked the exposed skin, repeating the action until Anderson was both shirtless and breathless. The whole time Anderson watched, his mouth parted as he moaned. He was in heaven and had no intention of coming back down to earth.
He wanted more, craved it with his whole soul. He knew that Hotch felt just like he did. He felt it hard pressed against his thigh. Anderson reached down for Hotch’s slacks; belt, button, zipper. He slipped his hand inside. The moan from Hotch’s throat was guttural, animal. His boxer briefs were moved to the side and Anderson’s hand was on him…flesh on flesh. The heat between them crackled and desire filled the room. There was no turning back, it was now or never and had to be now.
"That’s it baby, feel. " Anderson breathed out as Hotch’s face twisted in to one of pleasure. Not one to be idle, Hotch rid Anderson of his belt, his button and zip undone seconds after. Anderson’s sigh from the release in pressure was soon followed by a moan when Hotch’s hand found it’s way in to his briefs. "Ohh fuck," Anderson groaned, his hips shifting. Hotch revelled in the way Anderson responded to his touch. "I want you. I’ve always wanted you." Hotch told him as he took a nipple captive. "Then take me."
The clothes were a hindrance, had to go. Once they were naked, only when they were naked, would they both have what they wanted. Kissing, llaughing, grunting a bit as this arm moved and this leg was pushed, it took some work but finally they got down to boxers. Before Hotch even had a moment to think, Anderson was up and pouncing. He pressed Hotch against the back of the couch and yanked down his boxers. Right now Anderson was stroking his lover and himself. The fire blazing inside of them was about to become an inferno and engulf the entire room. Hotch’s first whimper of mercy came from the bite on his shoulder. He shivered because there was more to come. “You keep lube in your back pocket.” Hotch turned to glance at Anderson. “Its the boy scout in you.” “No,” Anderson shook his head. “Its the man in me who knew this day would come.”
Hotch put a shirt on the seat next to him and sat on it. “Leather.” He said at Anderson’s quizzical look. He leaned forward and pulled Anderson to him, pulling his boxers down. “Better than I imagined, ” Hotch whispered as Anderson’s cock jutted forward. Hotch flicked his tongue over the head of before taking him in his mouth. He alternated between sucking and licking, Anderson’s moans spurring him on, before Anderson took Hotch’s mouth off of him. Anderson pushed him back and straddled Hotch.
It wasn’t that Anderson didn’t like the bottom, each position had something wonderful and something not so wonderful about it. But he loved being on top of Hotch. He loved holding his wrists down and grinding against his hips. He loved the way Hotch cried out his name, and closed his eyes. Anderson loved going so deep that they felt like one person, one person who would soon detonate and explode. Fucking Hotch was a workout. Marathons, Iron-Mans, zumba class, whatever, had nothing on it. Anderson loved sweating all over his lover, moaning his name as he thrust deeper and deeper. When Hotch said their safe word, Anderson let his wrists go. Hotch immediately grabbed hold of his hips. He had no control but pretending he did was part of the fun. Losing that control was the reason he’d kept his sanity.
Hotch could read Anderson better than himself. He knew what each moan, each sigh meant. How he’d suddenly lose rhythm and would just ride Hotch. Hotch thrust deeper in to him, grunting with each stroke. He felt Anderson tighten around him, gave in and felt. He would never grow tired of how Anderson would throw his head back in ecstasy, baring his neck to him, his whole body writhing with pleasure as he gasped for air. Hotch would soon follow, gripping Anderson’s hips hard enough to leave bruises, gasping Anderson’s name as he did so, emptying himself before collapsing back in to the chair. Anderson dropped in to Hotch’s waiting arms, his head resting on his shoulder. Not a word needed to be spoken as they held each other touching, feeling, loving.
Kevin Spacey| more on my LJ :
Crossed arms!Hotch will always be sexy.
My characters had hot sex today…and I wrote it down!!!!!!
Thomas Gibson, Criminal Minds