Title: Tender Loving Care
Author: Sam
Fandom: Criminal Minds (slave!AU)
Pairing: Gideon/Spencer/Aaron
Rating: FRAO - mention of m/m sex
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made, written to share the misery of cold and flu season.
Summary: Spencer has a cold and needs a little tlc.
A/N: This is a generic slave!AU where slavery is part of the penal system. Insired by Nancy's Romanology but NOT set in her wonderful AU. I have plans to expand and develope it but have no idea if it will actually happen.

***

Spencer shifted under the blankets, unable to get comfortable, the gray sweats and tshirt he had been wearing when Garcia had ordered him to bed an hour ago catching and twisting on the white cotton sheets. They wrapped around his legs until he had to move again to set them right, ending the angry jerk with a pitiful whimper.

Flopping back onto his back, Spencer huffed in annoyance at the congestion that wouldn't let him breathe on his sides without drooling a nasty mess on his arm, the pillow or both. His head was light and a bit fuzzy with fever and all he wanted was someone to hold him and coddle him off to sleep.

He couldn't get *warm*. Little shivers wracked his body until he gave in and curled up on his side, drawing his knees into his chest and crossing his arms to conserve all the warmth he could from the clothes he was wearing and the blankets and coverlet over him. Burrowing deeper into his nest he couldn't help but wish his Masters were here. Even if Aaron was just a slave like him, he had been with Gideon for over twenty years - probably as long as Spencer had been alive - and in Spencer's mind that made him Senior.

He wished they were home already. He just wanted someone to hold him.

He couldn't help but marvel over the change in his thinking in the couple of weeks since Master Gideon had bought him at Auction; waiting until the bids had died down to nothing and then calmly doubling the highest offer. Back then Spencer had been sure he had just gone from the frying pan into the fire - from Purgatory into Hell. No one bid that much on one scrawny slave unless there were Money, Family or Perversion involved.

Spencer obviously had no money and his Mother, the only surviving member of his family, was long gone. A casualty to the schizophrenia that haunted her; turning the once brilliant, vibrant woman into a paranoid shell of her former self before it had killed her, leaving Spencer with hospital bills he had no way of paying...

His first Master had fallen into the Perversion category.

He remembered every bit of fear he had felt and failed to repress while he had been led off the auction block and up to his second Master, still in the heavy iron shackles and chains some auction houses still preferred. Claimed they served as a reminder to the slaves to keep them in line. All Spencer had known was that they were heavy and cold and the shackles had been closed so tight they had dug into the sharp bones of his wrists.

But instead of ignoring him like most would have, Gideon had taken note of his shivering and had ordered the slave with him to give Spencer his own covering. It hadn't been much - just the short loincloth-type scrap of material barely enough to avoid indecency - but to Spencer it had been his lifeline.

He hadn't been able to stand all of the eyes roaming and devouring his naked body, even if his own eyes had been cast firmly on the floor and unable to actually see any of them. He had felt them and that had been enough.

After the initial paperwork had been taken care of, he had been led firmly yet gently by a hand on the back of his bare neck - his new Master would be responsible for Collaring him to his own satisfaction - into the changing room where incoming slaves were made to strip off clothing if they had worn any; only after that were they allowed into the Auction House itself. It was up to the sole discretion of their Masters if they were allowed any covering at all while they were there. Spencer's former Master had led him here with nothing but his gold Collar with it's series of rings and clips for leashes or whatever else Master may want to attach to it in order to torment his slave. And he had, more times than Spencer cared to remember. Would he be led out the same way?

But no, once in the room that resembled the locker room of some high end gym more than anything else, the slave - Aaron - had been told to get dressed. Spencer had stood by, his heart in his throat, automatically shivering when he heard one of the other Masters mention it had began to snow, wondering with a sinking heart if he would at least be allowed something on his feet; even if only the thin slippers that slaves wore when outside. If their Masters were kind.

He had been surprised when he heard a mild curse come from his Master's lips. Again his head rose in startlement, just long enough to catch the chagrined expression on the older man's face before his eyes lowered immediately back to the floor. Apparently his Master had forgotten to bring a set of shoes of any kind for Spencer to wear. To say he was surprised again when the dark-haired slave only slung his own coat - a slave with a coat, and a good one! - over Spencer's shoulders and scooped him up to carry him to the waiting car would be an understatement.

Spencer had been so surprised he hadn't thought a thing about it when his arms automatically came up around the slave's neck so he could hold on. Or the way he had instinctively crowded closer into his chest when the door had opened and the icy wind threatened to freeze him from the outside in, despite the warm, knee-length trench coat he had been all but wrapped in...

Not unlike the chills he was getting now; only these seemed to be working from the inside out...

And still he couldn't breathe!

Rolling back unto his back, Spencer gave into the inevitable and resigned himself to lying, staring up at the ceiling for the rest of his life. That's how long this damned cold felt like it was going to last. His symptoms weren't dangerous, not even his fever had broken past the 100 mark, but he was tired of feeling miserable. Surely it was time for his Master and Aaron to come home?

Just as he thought he couldn't wallow any further into self-pity, Spencer felt a dip in the bed on his left side. As well as a blessedly cool hand gently brushing the hair back from his forehead.

"Hey there," Aaron greeted sympathetically. "Garcia says you're not feeling any better."

Turning gratefully into the welcome touch, Spencer closed his eyes, thearrival of his compatriot sparking the urge to whimper and whine that, no, he didn't feel very good at all.

"'m cold," he said. "I can't get warm."

"Well we can fix that," Aaron stated firmly.

Spencer opened his eyes, noting only concern and good humor in the dark gaze. Turning to the man on his other side, silent up until now, Spencer could find nothing less in the equally dark eyes looking back at him from their Master.

And despite just wishing for that very thing, he couldn't help the momentary jolt of discomfort bordering on fear at the actuality of it happening. Though two weeks ago he would probably have been out of the bed and huddled in the corner quite willing to endure a beating rather than face the thought of two men restraining him amidst the twisted blankets. Especially since he knew for a fact that Aaron was Gideon's sex slave as well as everything else.

But after having spent the last two weeks with both Aaron and their Master insisting repeatedly that Spencer was quite safe with them until he himself decided otherwise, Spencer had begun to relax into the brief hugs and gentle hands on his shoulder that held no meaning other than to provide comfort or even just human contact.

For some reason both men were quite firmly convinced that Spencer hadn't been touched enough in his short life. At least not by the *good* kind.

They had started the gentle encouragement the very first night he had gotten here. Having been shown the guest bedroom, (much to his surprise since Spencer had naturally assumed he would be sleeping in the Master's bedroom on the floor, or at the foot of the bed if Aaron didn't balk at sharing and Gideon was feeling generous), they left him alone for a bit while the older man made dinner. Another surprise; Gideon loved to cook, only allowing Aaron in the kitchen if the rueful slave agreed to stay a good ten feet away from his cookware.

Something to do with a surprise birthday dinner that had gone horribly wrong...

After a wonderfully long shower, which Gideon had told him not to worry about using all the hot water, and equally good meal later, Spencer had been given his very own set of pajamas to wear and gently but firmly ushered to bed. In his own bedroom. Complete with locking door.

A bit later, unable to shut off his mind or the fears running little circles around in his head enough to sleep, Spencer had made his way hesitantly down the hall to the master bedroom. Maybe if he could see how the older man treated his other slave then Spencer would be able to sleep. At least he would *know*. So with that thought firmly in mind Spencer had leaned in close to the partially open door and pushed it open just that much more; enough for one eye to peer in and hopefully not enough for Gideon to find out he was being spied on by the man he had just bought.

The scene that greeted his nervous spying hit him like a fist in the gut; his heart dropped only to shoot up into his throat, his hand spasming where he steadied himself on the lintel of the doorway. Not only was Gideon 'using' his slave in full view in front of him - but Aaron was begging, pleading for more. Naked with only the simple gold circlet of his Collar shining in the low light, his dark hair damp and sticking to his forehead, the slave was on top of their Master, riding him wantonly, his dark eyes closed to mere slits as he frantically gave the older man whatever he was asking him for...

Broken out of his reverie by another hand on his forehead, this time, peering down into Spencer's flushed cheeks and dazed eyes, Master Gideon wore a frown. "Spencer?"

"I'm sorry, Master. I was dazing. My mind doesn't want to stay in one place today."

"You sure you're all right? Garcia said your fever hasn't been that high."

"It hasn't," Spencer confirmed, not wanting to get the outrageous slave in trouble. He liked her. For all of her boisterous personality and mock-lewd behavior, she was rapidly becoming the best friend he had ever had and he thought she might feel the same way. "I'm just spacey and floaty and really can't get warm." And then, because he really hated being sick, he whined pitifully, "And I can't breathe!"

Gideon chuckled, though Spencer knew it wasn't at his misery, and smiled gently. "Let's see what we can do about that. Scoot over," he told him after handing him a glass of water and two white pills, which Spencer gratefully swallowed along with a capful of nasty medicine.

Spencer carefully placed the now empty glass on the bedside table and immediately found himself back to chest with Aaron, the other slave having stripped down into a tshirt of his own though he wore boxers instead of sweats. A couple of minutes later and Gideon had done the same, sliding into bed in front of Spencer and pulling him closer.

Pulling the blankets up around them all created a mini-cocoon against the outside world in the middle of he afternoon; a cocoon that was already warming with just the other two men in it with him.

Throwing one arm over Spencer's waist, that hand resting firmly in the curve of Aaron's back, he asked hopefully, "Better?"

Spencer thought about it carefully. The double embrace wasn't confining, more along the lines of a loose horizontal hug - and he'd been getting plenty of vertical ones in the last few days. Enough to feel comfortable at the casual contact of legs, knees and bodies as long as those bodies were clothed as they were now. In fact, it felt *good*. Safe. Like Gideon always said he was around them...

Finally getting warm, Spencer allowed that thought to slide away as a warm chuckle ghosted over the too-warm skin flesh of his forehead, a warm kiss placed there a moment later.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Mmmm. Yes," he agreed muzzily, not truly aware that his nose was nuzzling a hollow against the tshirt at Gideon's throat or that one arm had snaked over his Master's middle and that he was reveling in the contact.

Another chuckle at his back and the arms around him tightened briefly as bodies settled in for a couple of hours sleep. He shifted, turning slightly until he was resting more on his back than his side, leaning back against Aaron as his mouth automatically opened so he could breathe. A pair of hands, one apiece, ran tender trails under the soft cotton of his tshirt. Along his stomach, up to his chest and back down to the band of his sweats, they repeated the soothing motion, lightly brushing the flushed, over-warm skin until Spencer settled down again.

"Sleep, Spencer."

A contented little hum was the only response they received. For the first time since he was a young boy still small enough to be held in his mother's arms, Spencer felt completely safe and protected and quickly slipped down into sleep.

End