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“Hey,” Dave says in Hotch’s ear, gently moving his chin to look at the mirror, thumb gentle on his cheek. “Look at that, big guy.”
Hotch can hardly breathe, impaled on Dave’s cock, kneeling on the floor of the bedroom. The soft carpet is gentle on his knees and Dave’s, but they’ll both be achy anyway. Different reasons for them both. Hotch’s nails dig into Dave’s thighs, a desperate attempt to keep himself upright, back pressed to Dave’s chest, even though there are strong arms spanning his chest . When he looks hazily at the mirror, he gags on whatever breath he manages to take in.
Dave’s face is pressed in his shoulder, right above the indents of a bitemark. His arm is pressed against Hotch’s chest to keep him from falling forward, his other hand runs gently over one of Hotch’s straining thighs. Hotch’s chest gives way to his waist and hips, and dim light glitters off repaired tissue along his stomach-
Hotch rears away, eyes squeezing shut.
“Shit,” he hisses, reaching behind him with one hand to drag Dave to kiss him. When they break apart, Hotch keeps his eyes shut, head turned away. “I’m sorry,” he says under his breath. “I’m sorry, I thought I could, but-”
Dave hushes him, rolls his hips upward. “You know I’m not letting anything happen to you,” he murmurs as Hotch gasps and moans. “Just look how pretty you are on my cock, yeah?”
Hotch opens his eyes and just stares at Dave, at his eyes, the way his lips are pressing against Hotch’s shoulder again. His stomach roils with nerves.
“I don’t think I can do it,” he pants, shaking his head.
Dave shakes his head, lifts his head to kiss his lips and thrust upward again. Hotch bites Dave’s lip a little harder than necessary, nails digging deeper into his thighs. He’d feel bad, but Dave smiles and thumbs over his ribs with one hand.
“You can do it,” he says softly. “You can. Look up.”
Hotch kisses the corner of his mouth, groaning at another deep thrust. “I don’t know-”
“I know you, Aaron. If you don’t do this, you’re gonna feel like you let Foyet win,” Dave whispers. “Come on, big guy, don’t let him have this.”
There’s an unspoken too there, and that’s what makes the tears burn hot in his throat.
“Look.”
Hotch looks.