Title: Potentially Subjective
By: theimpressionis
Pairing: Hotch/Reid/Gideon
Rating: R
Summary: This is a sequel somewhere between slash_girl's "Phone Sex" and my fic "Relaxation Techniques". I'm taking slash_girl's advice and going with a litle more action because canon? Highly overrated.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warning: bondage, very mild D/s, delayed gratification and a wee bit of voyeurism.

***

It had been nearly a week since the office party and Spencer Reid was working late. Morgan had bribed him with chocolate coverd coffee beans in a bid to escaped paperwork and Spencer was just finishing the last of it. He had taken his time; Gideon would want to see it before it was filed, and he was putting off seeing the other man. Not that anything had happened, outside of his filthy mind, but Spencer always felt that Gideon could read him like a book. He had a feeling that Gideon suspected Spencer saw him as more than just a mentor. Not to mention Hotch, just the thought of the man gave Spencer a fine appreciation for the slightly baggy cords he had worn to work that day. As if conjured by his thoughts, Hotch strolled by his desk.

"Jason wants you in his office," Hotch said, absently flipping thourgh a file.

"I wish," Spencer thought wryly, but simply nodded at Hotch.

Gideon seemed faintly surprised by his presence, but motioned him in.

"Close the door." Spencer obeyed. "Come and take a look at these. What can you tell me about the photographer?"

Spencer scanned the photos; mostly black and whites. People appearing in some of them, but none existed as the central focus. Light stemming from natural sources; half-open doors, windows. Roads that lead out of the frame, docks that disappeared into mist.

"Noticeable repetition in the appearance of doorways, gates, windows: the suggestion of the Other- and the potential subjectivity of reality. Borders, rituals, the zones between civilized reality and the unknown." Spencer bit his lip. "A sort of obsession on the boundaries between life and death."

Spencer glanced up to find Gideon watching him intently, a quick nod. Another glance at the photographs. "Are you sure these are from the sam-the feel of a hand, high up on his thigh, interrupted his words.

Gideon's face was calm but his eyes were sparkling. Oh. It didn't take a genius IQ to figure out what that gesture meant.

He couldn't think of a thing to say. Instead he leaned over and kissed Gideon. He intended it to be just a light kiss, a reciprocation, but Gideon kissed him back and it turned into something entirely different. Spencer couldn't help the gasp at the feel of Gideon's tongue against his lips and Gideon couldn't help taking advantage of the moment. Spencer responded eagerly, lightly stroking Gideon's tongue with his own, moaning at the feel of the older man's mouth. He had been fantasizing about this for weeks yet could barely believe its happening.

Spencer was becoming lost in the taste and heat of Gideon's mouth when he sensed movement behind him. He whirled around to see Hotch watching them from the doorway. Spencer actually felt his heart skip a beat. Yet Hotch didn't look upset, or even surprised. If anything, he looked aroused.

"Guess you forgot to lock the door," Gideon, incredibly, was smirking.

They had planned this?! Spencer has every intention of voicing his annoyance- they almost gave him a heart attack- but he's having trouble concentrating on anything other than the heat and clean soapy scent of the federal angents currently invading his personal space. The realization that he's about to be with both of them makes him suddenly, desperately hard.

Hotch's normally solemn face is almost impish; he's sliding a finger under the buttons of Spencer's cardigan, tugging on his tie. Spencer leans over and kisses him, a moment to adjust for the height difference, lining up noses and the faint scrape of stubble. But they are quick to discover what the other likes, eager to explore each other's mouths. Spencer wraps a hand around Hotch's neck, another finds its way to the man's hip. Pulls at the man's shirt so he can stroke the smooth skin of his lower back. Hotch sighed into his mouth. Spencer pulled away to to lick and suck gently at the long throat.

Moans a little at the heat of Gideon surrounding him from behind, the erection pressed againts his ass. Gideon leaned over and kissed Hotch, taking his mouth in a hungry, practised kiss. "They've done this before," Spencer realized. He's not sure why they decided to include him, but he's glad they did.

Spencer made quick work of Hotch's tie and began to unbutton his shirt. He is briefly distracted by Gideon's lips on his neck, his jaw, and he has to pause to kiss the older man. When he turns back the sight of a tie-less Hotch is oddly vulnerable, he seems more revealed than had he been shirtless. It's also erotic; he's rumpled and flushed, dark hair falling into his eyes, lips swollen and slick. Spencer slides a hand inside the formerly crisp shirt to pinch a nipple, rakes his nails over his torso, across the lean stomach.

Spencer has taken to wearing his most casual clothing lately; the tan cords and his blue cardigan have been washed to softness, thin and comfortable againts his skin. Gideon seems to agree. His big hands are roaming everywhere; under his shirt, stroking across his ribs, the basin of his hips, skirting his erection to stroke a thigh. Spencer clings to the task of stripping Hotch; its the only way he can keep any control at all. The way that Hotch is kissing him isn't helping either.

Spencer isn't sure if this will ever happen again so he's determined to get both men naked, to see and taste and touch as much as he can. Spencer wonders if he should use their first names; more intimate somehow, than having a man's tongue in your mouth.

"Can I?" he pauses. Hotch looks almost eager. "Can I call you Aaron?- I mean," stumbles a little because Jason-Gideon- still calls Hotchner Hotch and maybe he doesn't like it and-"Spencer." Gideon's use of his first name snaps him out of it.

"Spencer this is Aaron, Aaron, this is Spencer." Gideon sounds almost formal. They are starting to grin now. "And I'm Jason."

It's so absurd and Spencer has the bizarre urge to shake Aaron's hand. He's grateful for a moment of levity so instead he carefully unzips Aaron's fly and blinks at the publicly uptight agent's lack of underwear. Spencer isn't sure if he's amused or appalled.

"A little presumptuous, don't you think?" Jason sounds more amused than anything, and Aaron's grin makes Spencer ache from something other than desire.

Spencer turned to kiss the smirk of of Jason's face, enjoying the older man's version of helping him out of his clothing; it was clearly necessary that Jason suck and gently nip at his collar bone, for teeth to graze a nipple, before Jason could remove Spencer's sweater. As necessary as bucking into the hand palming his cloth covered cock, before it left to carefully unzip his cords, slide his briefs off. Cool air on his cock. Spencer wants to be just as helpful, so he aids Jason in the removal of his wine dark shirt, helpfully taking time to pinch the older man's nipples and barely spending any time cupping and stroking the man through his black trousers before unbuckling his belt. Jason shudders and from his look, Spencer is going to pay for that. Good.

It's Spencer's turn to shudder at the feel of Aaron, naked, draped over him, hot breath on the back of his neck, hands sneaking to touch and stroke sensitized skin. Spencer revels in the feel and taste of smooth warm skin, sighs at the feel of Aaron nipping his ear, lapping away at the sting.

Spencer gave a little moan of disappointment when Jason steps away from them. He's about to voice a protest, when Aaron gently grabs his chin, murmurs "greedy," before pulling him into a hungry kiss. Spencer pushes Aaron into the nearest wall, fits a thigh between his legs and thrust againts him, moaning at the friction. Aaron meet his movements, panting. Jason's hand on his lower back is almost a surprise, he reluctantly stills. Aaron continues to thrust minutely, aching for contact.

"Patience is a virtue," Jason scolded.

"Yeah, just not one of mine," Aaron retorted.

Jason smirked and held up a slim tube, crinkle of condoms.

Aaron grinned, "Now who's presumptuous?" he teases. Jason merely smiled.

"Turn around."

Mild as the command was, Aaron was hasty to comply.

Spencer is thrown for a moment when Jason poured some of the cool liquid into his palm and can't keep from gasping at the sight of Aaron leaning against the wall, hands above his head to support him. Impossibly gorgeous, long legs and firm ass, just waiting for him. But not his; Spencer stills at the glint of gold on Aaron's left hand, both of these men wore wedding bands.

Jason sensed his tension, and stroked Spencer's hair with his free hand. Aaron turned, moved to to touch Spencer's cheek and sobered at the younger man's flinch.

"Hey, it's Ok." Spencer couldn't even try to look convinced and Aaron continued, "We have an agreement. Haley has--interests of her own."

Spencer glanced at Jason, found himself believing the solemn nod. Of all the mistakes people made, it seemed unlikely that Jason would perpetrate this one, this kind of . . . theft.

And the day is just full of surprises; somehow that just makes it hotter. Does Haley imagine her husband with other men? Does it make her hot? Spencer tamps down on that thought, this is going to be quick, no reason to make it any briefer than necessary.

Dark thrill to slide his fingers into Aaron, dirty and oh so hot, made hotter by the needy little noises Aaron is making. Jason's broad hands parting his asscheeks, blunt fingers slicking him up. It burns a little as Jason prepares him, but the pain centers him, keeps him from getting too excited. Aaron's hands are flat againts the wall when Spencer finally slides into him, and oh its pure bliss, heat and tight so tight. Gasps when Jason follows suite, and it burns and fills and is exactly what he needs. They still for a moment, panting.

"Move, dammit!" Aaron grinds out from behind gritted teeth.

Incentive enough to move and it's almost too much. Spencer snaked a hand around Aaron's hip to grip his slick cock, trying to stroke in counterpoint to Jason's thrusts but he's having trouble concentrating. He's struggling to find what's left of his mind; his brain no longer seems inclined to help him and Spencer gives in, he can look for his sanity later. His world narrows down to pleasure; the tight heat around his cock and Jason's thrusts, over and over, hitting his, oh, his, his and he's coming so hard he can barely see, failed utterly to register Aaron's cry, he was only dimly aware of Jason's low rough moan, fingers tightening on his hips, he will discover the bruises hours later and be stunned.

When he came back to himself they are sitting in a heap, Aaron all but sitting in his lap with his head on Jason's chest. What Spencer see is trust and sweetness, Jason is stroking Aaron's hair, Aaron's long fingers traced Spencer's hip, lightly stroking a bony knee.

Spencer quickly reminds himeslf that reality can be highly subjective, not to expect too much. But Aaron's sleepy grin and Jason's soft, almost indulgent look, makes him think they might just be seeing the same thing after all.

***