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[vanessasquest.livejournal.com]

Written for The IKY'dU Blog - Hotch/Reid Writing Challenge: Round #6
Blog Link: http://www.Iknewyoudunderstand.Blogspot.com/ 
Pen Name: Vanessa S. Quest
Title: Long Island Iced Tea and Hard Lemonade
Genre: Romance and Debauchery?
Rating: FRM/AO?
Prompt: Set 3: Sweet Tea - Lemonade
A/N: Hotch/Reid-- but for the record, Hotch may be a bit OOC and I don't think it's the ideal courtship technique... but if you think I should expand, let me know. <3

Connotation is the defining grace of a language, it is also the driving force making millions trying to learn an additional language’s life a living hell personally. This, and many other thoughts struck Spencer as he drank the third ‘sweet tea’ Garcia put in front of him. He was certain this drink was actually a Long Island Iced Tea, but his head was getting fuzzy and it was getting harder to think. By time he finished his drink, he had come up with a plan—if he was going to escape Garcia’s pad even close to anything less than hammered, he had to act.

“Garcia… can I get a lemonade?” What Reid said resembled that, with a few more slurred vowels and sloppy consonants.

“Sure thing, sugar!” She ruffled his hair playfully blowing a kiss towards Morgan as she headed toward the kitchenette. Prentiss smirked as she sat down next to Reid, moving his hand to free the seat to his left.

“Oh, you are so drunk…” She laughed and Reid rolled his eyes. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you sloshed.”

“You haven’t seen me at karaoke with Garcia, then… it’s like clockwork…”

“…No, this time is worse.”

Garcia delivered a Mike’s Hard Lemonade to Reid, sprawled on the couch before pushing Prentiss over. “You, come to the kitchen with the rest of us girls…” She winked suggestively.

Morgan smirked, “Uh oh, girl-time huh…? What are you plotting baby girl?”

“You keep your nose out of it and you’ll be spared.” She winked, Morgan held up his hands in surrender.

“The rest of you are on your own…” He pointed his beer at Rossi, then Hotch, then Reid then back to his lips to take a hearty swig. Rossi raised his own glass.

“Well, then, I’m spared. My agent just got Garcia tickets to a show she was dying to see. What about you, Hotch? Have you appeased the tech goddess lately?”

Hotch bit out a small curse.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He glanced at Reid, “Then again, it looks pretty obvious who’s tonight’s offering.” He made a drunken gesture after spotting Reid then smirked. For a moment he could have sworn he saw Hotch pout.

Reid sipped on his lemonade, seemingly unaware that he wasn’t sobering up any, by time he had his third he accepted that he was tanked. He tossed his keys to Garcia, which managed to hit squarely against the wall three feet to her left.

“I’m crashing here.”

Garcia gave Reid a measured look, “Actually, sweetness, Kevin’s staying the night. Any takers willing to take Reid here home?” She gave Rossi a once-over that for the life of him didn’t read: Be a pal, give him a ride, but instead: if you offer to I’ll hack your bank account and make it read all zeroes.

Rossi raised his hands, “Sorry, can’t… I have to take Prentiss back, she’s a bit too tipsy. Morgan…?”

“Me? No way, I’m not letting him puke inside my car.”

Hotch set his glass of water down, “I’ll drive… come on, we should get back now anyway.” Reid waved his hand once to acknowledge it and started to sit up-right. He staggered a bit until Hotch steadied him with a grip on the shoulder.

“Thanks…”

After what happened later that night, Hotch doubted that innocent exchange would still have occurred if Reid had seen it coming. He also figured he’d have to have a word with Garcia about consciously drugging her coworkers. He wondered if that made him a hypocrite since he was the one taking advantage of that very fact.

He looked at Reid, passed out on his couch. When he had decided to take Reid back to his place instead of Reid’s, he was unsure… but when Reid’s half-lidded eyes had landed on him, he turned the wheel in confirmation, breaking off from the path to righteousness aka Reid’s apartment, and heading to his home instead.

Playing it off as not having Reid’s keys, Reid went along without so much as an utterance of protest. Hotch doubted he was even fully awake at this point, he was just stumbling through a drunken stupor, through Hotch’s front door, to his couch and then plop- he was down for the count.

It was half an hour later when Hotch came in with a t-shirt, sweats, and some water that things went awry, that’s his story and he’s sticking to it. It started with unbuttoning Reid’s shirt, but this quickly devolved into feeling up the contours of Reid’s chest. From heavy petting and needy gasps from Reid, and instinct driving him, Hotch had his lips locked on the younger agent. Soon his fingers were raking through Reid’s hair and instead of undressing Reid to change him, he was just stripping him.

Reid’s hands fumbled a bit with Hotch’s tie, which at the time he took as a sign of consent, and he too stripped. Heavier petting and making out shifted to more needy grunts and Hotch jerking Reid off before prepping his subordinate’s asshole and penetrating.

Hot, tight sensations ran from the tip of his overexcited cock to the seat of his stomach and washed over his mind, numbing him into this as if this was the best wet dream he’d ever had… though he wished Reid would be more responsive in a wet-dream… After climaxing about three separate times, he realized this wasn’t a wet dream… and Reid wasn’t an active participant, he was a drunk subordinate who was relying on his boss to get him safely to his apartment- not passed out and ass-fucked on said boss’s couch.

Hotch blanched as he realized what he’d done, and half-hoped that cleaning up and acting like it didn’t happen would somehow make this go away… he knew damn well it didn’t and it wouldn’t… Reid was amazing, even when only participating at an eighth of normal capacity… but somehow he prayed he would remember it while simultaneously dreading it. Did this make him some date rapist? Did he seriously just throw away decades of work for a one-night stand (that he’d happily make long term if Reid somehow wanted to…)?

Those nerve wracking thoughts had kept Hotch awake all throughout the night after cleaning Reid up, dressing him in pajamas and getting him back into his bed.

Reid awoke in the morning, hung over and sore, and very alone in a strange bed. Silently freaking out that he wasn’t sure where he was, he proceeded to profile the room, figure out who the hell he had fucked and why…

From what he could see without his contacts in, were family photos of a blob-child, thick books that, again without glasses or vision correction of any sort, he couldn’t really profile without getting closer to, and that seemed like a bad idea. Getting out of bed was out. He opted to smell the room, it felt… comforting, which was odd he supposed, since very few things made him feel at home. Even the style of the furniture seemed to mesh with his sense of aesthetic, well… the blurry sense of it he had.

He concluded through the preliminary profile that whomever had taken him to bed was worthwhile, but then the question that came to mind was how did he wind up hooking up for the night? Last night, the last thing he remembered after leaving work was going to Garcia’s and drinking… and surely, she’d never allow him to run off with a stranger while hanging out, particularly when drunk. She was far too much of a mother hen for that. No, the only reason that would be allowed is if she knew AND approved of the suitor… that was a short list, especially of teammates, and if he was being fully honest, the only name on that list would be Hotch’s. It made sense, suddenly, the blurry photos could easily be of Jack…

“Oh my god… I fucked my boss.” He shot up out of bed, searching for his clothes, feeling mortified, had he made an ass of himself? Had he made a pass at his boss? Of all the taboo rules… and he chose to break the worst… Reid was hopping around, half blind, grabbing clothes he hoped were his on the floor, and oh how the pit of his stomach and small of his back ache as he bent over. It didn’t matter, he had to get a cab, and get some distance… maybe this would be a dream, he just had to get to his bed to wake up and make sure it was alllllll a drunken dream. No, this couldn’t be real, he couldn’t have just tossed away his career on what he was sure was amazing, but equally blurry night having sex with his boss. If he was going to tank his career he should at least be allowed to remember it, damn it!

Hotch opened the door to the bedroom as he heard motions coming from behind the door, “Reid… are… are you alright?”

“Hotch!” Reid squeaked, the older man looked at him, a bit unnerved, almost frantic. “Uh… hi… about last night…”

“You were really drunk, I’m so sorry, I never should have initiated you…”

“Wait… wait, what? YOU initiated…?” Reid suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, his clothing dropped limply from his hands, “How long have you…?”

“Longer than I care to think in timelines.” Hotch said, answering the question held in the air. He didn’t want to be honest about his infidel thoughts about Reid when he was married to the mother of his child.

“…But I didn’t say anything…?”

“You were really out of it, I apologize, it was completely inappropriate, I took advantage of…”

Reid might not have been able to focus on the images in the picture frames on the bed, but with a precision of a surgeon he locked onto Hotch’s lips from across the way and with heat-sinking precision approached, engaged, and lapped the lips pressed against his. At first said lips were unresponsive, but soon, they, and a set of hands were engaged, wrapping around the small of his back and crashing back toward the bed.

Spencer Reid had never had such a positive experience with hangovers in all of his life, but waking up to find the man that he had loved for years also was pining for him… truly was an amazing sensation. They wound up making out with each other for another half hour before calling it quits for the time being. Conversations would come later, the physical aspect of the answer was enough to process on a lazy Saturday morning.

All Reid could think about was that he would have to make Garcia very happy for orchestrating this… very happy.

 

Comments

[maldeluxx.livejournal.com]

OOC or not, it's still hot *heh, rhyme* XD