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“Lust is the craving for salt of a man who is dying of thirst.” - Frederick Buechner
Hotch is sat in the armchair across from the sofa where Reid– his boyfriend? Partner? There hasn't really been a discussion of terminology in all the years this has been going on. But, presently, Reid is on his knees in front of Morgan—his colleague? His friend? The terms both seem so small, for a connection that has literally saved his life.
He's overthinking, and that's meant to be a Reid thing. So, right now, he's sat in an armchair, across from where Reid is on his knees in front of the sofa, in front of Morgan, and Reid is licking a slow stripe up Morgan’s cock.
It's a strange and wonderful life he leads.
Reid hums his appreciation, sucks at the nearly cherry-red tip, making a show of this particular skill set. Hotch palms himself through his trousers, shifting his hips and getting comfortable.
Maybe it shouldn’t be this hot to watch his boyfriend lowering his mouth around another man’s cock, but then, Reid wants to be fucked by Morgan, and Hotch, after dealing with some feelings he isn't exactly proud of, has realised he wants to watch.
---
“Are you in love with him?”
“Aaron, have you considered there isn't an answer to this that you're going to be happy with?”
“What does that mean?”
“Of course I love him. He's my best friend, if soul mates as a concept exist, then he's mine.”
Hotch feels a little sick, like he’s been kicked in the gut.
“Well, if I'm stopping you from being with your soul mate, why don't you just go to him?”
Reid isn't reacting like Hotch wants, just looks at him levelly from where he's sat on the bed. It’s infuriating how calm he is over the whole thing.
“Because I chose you.”
---
Hotch watches hungrily as Reid strokes the base of Morgan's thick shaft with one hand and fondles his heavy balls with the other, as he sucks the first couple of inches into his mouth. Morgan's cock is massive, kind of ridiculous. As Reid attempts to take more into his mouth it quickly becomes a difficult task; he purses his lips and pulls back, flicking his tongue against the big, sensitive head.
“Morgan, you’re in a miniscule percentile of recorded penis sizes,” Reid says, somewhat awed. He doesn't consult Hotch, doesn't look at him, all his attention on Morgan. It's not about Hotch right now; he is merely a voyeur to whatever Reid wants to do.
“You're doing good, pretty boy.” Morgan runs a hand over Reid’s shoulders and up to tangle in his hair.
“You’re almost twice the length I’m used to accommodating,” Reid observes, “and considerably thicker.” He shows his approval by sucking Morgan’s cock back into his mouth, groaning with pleasure around him as Morgan guides him with his hand in his hair.
“Damn, Reid! Your mouth is fucking hot.”
Despite feelings his cheeks coloured with just as much humiliation as arousal, Hotch has his hand inside his pants now, squeezing himself through his underwear.
---
“Why did you choose me?”
“I wanted you.”
“But you wanted Morgan, too. I want to know what internal logic made you choose me.”
Reid smiles, a little sadly.
“I knew that if I didn't, I'd lose you.”
“You'd lose me?”
“If I was in an official romantic relationship with Morgan, you wouldn't for a second have considered any proposal from me.”
“And what, Morgan is happy to be a homewrecker, so you get the best of both worlds?”
“I've never cheated on you,” Reid says. He doesn't sound even remotely angry, while Hotch's blood is boiling. “I won't ever. I'm not looking for you to acquiesce to the idea, I want you to want it, too.”
Hotch knows this hasn’t come about without Reid thinking about it for a long time, something long-considered. At the end of all things, he wants to make Reid happy, but he’s never been able to imagine being with someone outside of their relationship as something that wouldn’t just end in disaster.
---
Reid is struggling, trying to take more and more of Morgan’s cock into his mouth, slurping noisily around the girth, hands still working the shaft and his balls. He presses forward, the head teasing his gag reflex. He coughs and pulls back, spluttering.
“You trying to deep throat me, pretty boy?” Morgan groans out, eyes flicking to meet Hotch’s.
Humiliation, domination or actively trying to make him jealous has not been discussed, but it hasn't been ruled out, either. Hotch is pretty sure that isn't the intent, even if he's feeling it; he doesn't see Morgan as the type to go for something like that, with no discussion.
“You’re not gonna be able to take all of it,” Morgan says, lifting his hips as Reid winds his tongue around the head over and over.
“I want to. I want to take it.”
“God, your boy really wants it,” Morgan says, not looking at Hotch as he guides Reid’s head back onto his cock. If he had looked, he would have seen him stifling a groan and pulling his own cock out of his pants.
Reid's putting pressure on his gag reflex again, trying to angle his head and throat so he cant take More of Morgan's cock; the sounds he's making are filthy, eager. Finally, with a determined push and swallow motion, Reid sinks a couple more inches onto Morgan's cock, holds himself there while Morgan groans deeply.
When Reid pulls off, a long rope of saliva links the head of Morgan’s cock and his mouth.
“I want you to fuck my throat.”
Hotch groans.
---
“How am I meant to want you to fuck another man?”
“You just can, Aaron. It can be sexually appealing to see your partner with another person.”
“Not to me.”
Reid settles on him with a lingering look; he's fairly certain Reid doesn't believe him.
“Then we won't do it, it's fine.”
“But you still want to. You still want Morgan.”
“Yes.”
“And that works for you? You can just go on wanting him, being with me, and never having him?”
“I told you, I chose you.”
---
Reid grabs Morgan’s wrist and drags him toward the bedroom. He doesn't even look at Hotch, though he still finds himself following them. Reid seems to have a good idea of how it's meant to go, because he clambers onto the bed and lays on his back, hanging his head over the edge.
“Sit there,” Morgan says, pointing to another chair, here in the bedroom. “You’ll want front row seats to me fucking your boy’s pretty mouth.”
Hotch complies. He watches Reid lazily stroking his own erection, eyes only for Morgan as he approaches, spreading lube over his cock.
“It’ll make it easier for you, kid. You sure you still want to do this?”
“I've wanted this since I met you.”
Morgan positions the head of his cock at Reid’s lips, who opens his mouth eagerly. He takes a big breath inward and Morgan pushes forward, smoothly pushing his huge cock into Reid’s mouth and through into his straightened throat.
Hotch groans as he watches Reid’s throat being filled – it is obscene. Even more obscene somehow is the way Reid’s hands wrap around Morgan’s thighs, clearly not to slow him down, but to pull him closer.
Morgan reaches down to stroke a hand along the bulge of Reid's throat.
“Damn, Reid.”
Hotch watches transfixed as Reid swallows around Morgan’s cock, imagining how good that would feel. Reid strokes himself harder, moaning around the intrusion. Morgan finally draws his hips back slowly, enough to free Reid’s airway so he can take a few lung-filling breaths.
“Ready, Reid?”
Reid just groans and pulls at Morgan’s thigh, trying to egg him on. Morgan rocks his hips forward, pressing past his dulled gag reflex into the tight channel of his throat again. He pulls back a few inches and then presses forward again. Hotch is dizzy with the knowledge that by the sheer size of him, Morgan's cock is fucking muscles Hotch will never be able to experience.
---
“If there's something specific you want from Morgan, we can discuss it. I know I'm much more traditional about sex than you are, but I'm willing to try.”
“It's not about specific acts, though Morgan as an addition to a sexual encounter does provide a large possibility for—” Reid stops himself, shaking his head a little.
Hotch feels a deep stab of jealousy in his gut.
“So it has to be him?”
“Not if you don't want it to happen.”
“But you love him, and if I say no, you'll leave. You'll change your mind.”
Morgan is a good man, and a better man than he is, Hotch thinks. It hasn’t been said, but clearly the other part of this conversation has already happened, and whatever Morgan’s response, it’s met with Reid’s approval.
“I won't.”
“Why the hell not, Spencer?”
Hotch wants him to react, wants him to wilt under Hotch's gaze like so many self-assured alpha personality men have before. Reid doesn't flinch. On a case, that'd make him proud, but right now, it makes something vicious curl inside him.
“Aaron, I chose to be with you, because I love you. Loving Morgan doesn't change how I feel about you, it doesn't change the choice I made.”
---
It's never been a word he'd have associated with Reid, but the man is feral. He's gripping Morgan's thighs, urging him on as he fucks his mouth and throat, gasping each time Morgan allows him a breath.
Morgan is good at this, pulling out further when he senses Reid needs to breathe, pausing for a few seconds to allow him to take a few big breaths before pushing back in and fucking Reid’s willing throat. Hotch can't believe the sounds that are coming from Reid; wanton moans around Morgan's girth, fisting his cock furiously as he wills Morgan to fuck his face harder.
Hotch has to slow his own hand on his cock or he's going to finish way before he wants. He's not sure what it is that he wants, how much or how far. It doesn't much matter though, because he's not in control of anything right now.
“Pretty boy, you want me to come down your throat?” Morgan purrs, working his hips expertly against Reid’s face. For the first time Reid’s hand on his thigh moves, puts it flat on his hip and pushes, a clear indication for Morgan to stop. He does, slowly pulling himself out of Reid’s throat.
Reid is panting heavily, slightly hoarse when he speaks.
“I want you to fuck me.”
Morgan's eyes briefly flicker to Hotch, who is gripping the base of his cock hard to stop himself coming all over himself. Hotch holds his gaze. He trusts Morgan, even here. He nods.
“Alright.” Morgan says, stroking his cock lazily as he turns back to Reid. “Get yourself ready. I need a few minutes to cool off if I’m gonna fuck your ass hard like you need it.”
---
“If we did this,” Hotch says, “it would just be a one time thing.”
“If that's what you want. Take some time, Aaron.”
Time isn't the problem, Hotch is pretty sure. The problem is that for everything he gave, it wasn't enough for Haley. For everything he's given to Reid, it isn't enough for him.
“We'll discuss this again,” he says as he turns to leave the bedroom.
“Come to bed, Aaron.”
Hotch turns back from the doorway.
“I promise I will consider what we've talked about, but I can't be here right now.”
He spends the night in his office, thinking. There’s no confusion about how these things work, he understands the concepts of non-monogamy, and he believes it's a lifestyle that works for some people. But it’s never been a consideration he’s made for himself.
Haley was never unfaithful, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t considered it. It feels particularly bad now, like a character assassination of a woman who can’t defend herself, that he thought she might have been capable of that.
But it would have more likely been that she’d been driven to it, if it had ever happened, which it didn’t. He was away so much, missed so much…
So maybe the cornerstone of his anxiety is that Reid’s being driven here, to this option, because he’s not a good partner.
He stews on it long into the night.
---
Reid eagerly snatches up the bottle of lube and gets on his hands and knees, displaying himself to them. As he circles one slick finger around his hole, Hotch is drawn to his face; he isn't looking back at him to see how he's reacting, he's watching Morgan slowly stroking his cock a few feet away from the bed.
“Tell your man what you want,” Morgan says. Reid groans as he pushes a finger into himself.
“I want him to fuck me until I can’t walk.”
Hotch swears under his breath, a tide of jealousy and arousal coursing through him.
“He’s so big, Aaron, I don’t know if I can take it. But I want to try so much...”
He whines as he slips a second finger into himself, stroking them in and out.
“I want to feel full...” He works a third finger in, cock leaking a string of fluid onto the bed below.
“How does he look, Hotch?” Morgan asks, voice heady with desire. “Your boy all spread open, waiting for me to fuck him? You want him to fuck you, Reid? Open you up for me?”
“No,” Reid says quickly, as he continued to fuck himself on his fingers. Hotch feels another stab of jealousy mixed with hurt, but he still grips his cock a little harder. “Want you to fuck me, Morgan. Fuck me. Fuck me, please. Please.”
Morgan chuckles darkly, striding over to the bed and manhandling Reid around so his rear is raised in the air, his upper torso and arms braced on the bed.
“You ready, pretty boy?”.
For the first time since this started, Reid looks at Hotch.
“Fuck me.”
Hotch watches as Morgan presses the blunt head of his cock against Reid's hole.
“You’re hot for this, ain’t you?” Morgan growls, pressing forward steadily. With no small effort he pushed the head of his thick cock into Reid, and Reid spasms and cries out the noise translates as a pure current to Hotch’s own cock.
“Ah!” Reid breathes, still staring at Hotch. Morgan pushes forward “Oh! You’re really big, Morgan!”
“Relax, kid.” Morgan is holding Reid open with his thumbs while his hands brace in his rear. “You are never gonna forget my cock after this.” He pushes forward again, sinking another slow inch into Reid’s body.
---
“Does Morgan know you're in love with us both?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't he ask you to choose him?”
“He understood my decision.”
“Were you sleeping with him, before you made your decision?”
“No.”
“So you want to sleep with him once, to what? Get him out of your system, so you can settle?”
“I'm not settling.”
“Then what are you doing? How does this end, Spencer? You sleep with Morgan, you realise what you're missing, and then you leave.”
“I'm not going to leave.”
“Well, you can't have us both.”
“Why not?”
Reid’s pushing this, as much as he dares, clearly gentling Hotch about the whole thing. Which means it’s something he really wants, and he’s sharing it with Hotch because he trusts him; it would be so much easier for everyone if Reid had just left him to pursue Morgan, but he hasn’t. That means something of significance, but Hotch is grasping for a conclusion that’s out of reach.
---
Reid is a whimpering mess, hair stuck to his head, voice thready, eyes heavy. Morgan pushes in further, making Reid cry out. Morgan pulls back just as slowly, then draws out until only the head of his cock remains inside, and teases the edges of Reid’s hole with the defined ridge of his cock head. He pushes in again without stopping this time, until he's as deep as he had been before he pulled out.
“Fuck! Ah!” Reid pants. “You’re so big.”
“I’m only half in, pretty boy.”
“Oh!” Reid gasps. “It feels so good, Morgan, I want it all.”
“Tell your man how good it feels, Reid,” Morgan coaxes, pushing in another inch.
“Oh fuck!” He keens, bracing his arms on the bed. “Fuck, Aaron! It’s so big! I've never taken so much...”
By the time Morgan has managed to work all of his cock into Reid’s ass, he's shaking and gasping and moaning.
Feral, Hotch thinks. He's already stroked himself so close to orgasm several times watching Reid stretched open by Morgan's huge cock.
“Fuck me!” Reid begs. “Morgan, fuck me. I need it, please...”
Morgan obliges, pulling his hips back and slamming them forward, quickly starts a frantic pace. Reid cries out with each movement, body rocking forward. Hotch can see his boyfriend’s hard cock swinging below him, dribbling like a leaking faucet.
“He's so tight, Hotch!” Morgan grunts. “And look at him taking it. He's so good, right? You're so good, baby boy.”
Reid groans, pushing back hard against Morgan’s strokes. It's that watching Reid being thoroughly fucked by someone else is driving him crazy. Not just the humiliation, the jealousy, but also the want.
“I'm gonna make him come,” Morgan grunts, lowering his chest against Reid’s as he slams against him, puts his mouth right to his ear.
Hotch can still hear him, and his heart beats too fast as he panics that Morgan is going to kiss Reid, and that the man he's in love with, who loves them both, will be so lost to the moment he’ll kiss back. Hotch isn't sure he can deal with that, even as he continues to stoke himself.
“You wanna let him come, Reid? Or you wanna make him wait, let him in your ass after you’re full of my come?”
“Yes!” Reid gasps, fisting handfuls of the sheets below him.
“Get your hand off your cock, Hotch,” Morgan orders, raising himself up again, slamming and slapping his pelvis against Reid’s reddened behind. Hotch is not used to taking orders, but he complies because it's Morgan, abandoning his raging erection.
---
“I know you've only ever had one major relationship,” Reid says, “and it was by typical standards very normal. I'm not normal, Aaron. You can't have failed to notice it.”
“What are you getting, at, Spencer?”
“I meant it when I said I'm not leaving, that I'll drop this if you don't want it.”
“But what do you want?” Hotch demands. He's sick of feeling like Reid is trying to placate him, like he's not truly being trusted with the full breadth of what Reid is feeling. “What is it you really want? Forget the sex, what do you want?”
“I want you both. I want to be with you both.”
“But I don't want to share you!”
It’s the wrong thing to say, and he knows it not just for the way Reid’s expression changes, but because it doesn’t feel entirely true to say. He doesn’t want to keep Reid a hostage to their relationship, for him not to share the amazing parts of who he is with other people. He’s thought about it a lot, and if this had come up as a purely sexual fantasy, he’s pretty sure he’d have agreed to it by now. But there’s a mental block when it comes to extending that to his love.
“I'm not yours to decide whether you share or not,” Reid says, and for the first time during any of this there's a hard edge to his voice, all the level patience gone. “I chose to be with you.”
“Well, maybe you chose wrong.”
“Maybe I miscalculated this, but I didn't choose wrong.”
---
“Oh god!” Reid sounds, gasping into the bedding. “Fuck! Don’t stop! Morgan! You feel so good! Please! Fuck! Fuck me! I’m going to—”
“That’s it, baby. Let Hotch see you fall apart.”
“Ohgodohfuck!” Reid babbles, and comes with a final wail. Morgan doesn't relent, grabbing Reid’s hips and slamming them together even harder even as Reid goes limp.
“I’m gonna fill you up, pretty boy.” Morgan groans. “You ready?”
A roar-like shout claws its way out of Morgan’s throat, his hips moving hard and erratic as he finishes, emptying his load in Reid’s body.
Hotch has actually sat on his hands, knowing if he touches his cock he'll explode. Morgan slowly pulls out with a satisfied sound, presses the head of his cock to Reid’s hole to break the string of sticky semen linking them before he stands back.
“C’mon Hotch,” he pants, “come get an idea of the fucking our boy is never gonna forget.”
---
They’ve found themselves in the bedroom again, Reid in bed, Hotch standing. He knows it’s on purpose; Reid is giving him the illusion of control, command of things just from how they’re positioned.
He’s tired of it. He sits down on the bed, half turned towards Reid.
Reid has been so open about how he’s feeling, about what he desires. Patient, as he’s always been with him; patient while he was married, patient once he was divorced, patient after Haley died.
“I was with Haley for a long time,” he begins. “I’ve never given any serious thought to non-monogamy as anything other than adultery. I know they’re not the same thing, I know that in theory. But what you want is… it’s so beyond anything I’ve ever known, and I’m worried I won’t be capable of giving you what you want. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then I’ll stop asking.”
“No, Spencer, because then I’m just going to worry I’ve kept you from something. I don’t want to be that kind of partner, and, if I’m being honest, well, the sexual component of it all… I’ve been thinking about that constantly.”
“In a good way?”
“In some kind of way. I think I’d be willing to try it. I want to try it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. But I need more time about the other stuff, about you wanting more with Morgan. I’m not trying to add conditions to this, I’m not, but I need some more time. I’m thinking that the sex, it might help me with that.”
“I only want to do this if you really want to try it, Aaron.”
It’s not a lie, even if it’s bound up with a bunch of stuff he still needs to examine, to think about.
“I do.”
---
“C’mon Hotch,” he pants, “come get an idea of the fucking our boy is never gonna forget.”
Hotch doesn't need any more instruction; he clambers out of the chair and stumbles over to the bed. He grips Reid’s ass and pulls his cheeks apart, looking at his obscenely stretched hole, reddish-pink and leaking Morgan's spend. He lines himself up and pushed in easily; Reid’s body, usually so tight, is loose and pliable from his brutal fucking.
It takes Hotch less than six strokes before he's emptying into Reid too, a near-silent orgasm, a groan sneaking past his gritted teeth. Under him Reid barely responds, panting and still.
With the last of his available energy Hotch pulls out, collapsing beside him. He leans across to kiss Reid’s forehead, and Reid hums contentedly.
“How're you doing?” Reid mutters.
“Me? How're you?”
“I'm good, Aaron. Thank you.”
“You should really be thanking Morgan, he did all the work.”
He glances over at Morgan, who’s collapsed in the chair Hotch vacated. What he expects to see is a satisfied, happy man, maybe a touch of playful arrogance about him for the aforementioned work he’s done.
What he actually sees, before Morgan packs it away under a lazy smile, is the bittersweet sadness of a man who expects nothing more than this one night.
Instead of it feeling inevitable, like something that needs to be accepted and worked through, it feels like a mistake. One Hotch can, and with sudden, calming clarity, wants to fix.
“Morgan,” he says.
Morgan looks at him, query in the quirk of his brow.
“Come here.”
He drags Reid a few inches across the bed with him, making room for him on Reid’s other side. He fits himself against Reid’s back, aborts a kiss to his shoulder.
Hotch leans in and kisses Reid softly, trying to communicate something he’s not sure he could explain with words right now. He speaks with his lips still brushing Reid’s chin delicately.
“You should kiss him.”
Reid doesn’t hesitate, so much as wait for a tiny nod from Hotch, before he cranes his neck back, Morgan ready for him. Morgan cups Reid’s face so delicately as he kisses him, and Hotch wonders why he was ever frightened of this at all.
He knows it’s the come down from sex, that they’ll be more time to consider and to think, but there’s a rightness to this moment, of Reid flanked by two men who love him.
“They joined hands. So the world ended. And the next one began.” - Sarah J. Maas