Title: White Washed
By: nancy
Pairing: Reid/Hotch
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Spencer has a minor accident and Hotch warms him up.

***

It wasn't that Spencer was badly coordinated, not really. It was just that if there was a way to somehow trip over something or fall into something or even tiny patch of ice in the vicinity, he would inevitably find whatever it was and injure himself on it. Case in point, on a perfectly clear patch of sidewalk with everyone else walking on the icy street or in the snow where ice could lurk, Spencer's foot hit black ice. Suddenly the solid pavement beneath him was gone and he staggered sideways to land in a snowbank.

“Spencer!”

He groaned at Hotch's call of his name and tried to get futilely to his feet. He only succeeded in burying himself deeper and finally just stopped. Snow slid down the back of his jacket and his shirt and his now-bare nape rested directly on the snowbank. He should've worn his scarf, like he'd planned, but Morgan's knowing grin at the purple fabric had made him tug it off that morning and put it in his briefcase. His pantlegs felt soaked even from such short contact and the back of his neck and head were definitely wet and working on numb.

Morgan's grinning face came into his line of site and he asked, “Need a hand?”

Spencer pursed his lips and then said, “No, I think I'm comfortable here, thanks.”

Chuckling, Morgan reached down and hauled him upright. He brushed most of the snow off Spencer, but enough had dropped down the back of his jacket to send a violent chill through him.

Hotch arrived just then, a crease of worry marring his forehead as he asked quietly, “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” Spencer sighed. “Wet, but fine.”

Prentiss joined them and asked, lips trying to twitch into a grin, “What happened?”

Spencer bit back a sarcastic response and merely answered, “Black ice. Snowbank.”

At that she did grin. “That sucks.”

Morgan offered, “Why don't you take him back to the hotel? Prentiss and I can finish up with Captain Franklin.”

Hotch nodded and said, “Thanks, Morgan.”

Spencer protested, “I'm fine!”

A bitter wind passed through him just then and he was suddenly, brutally cold, shivering so hard his teeth chattered.

Hotch said, “It's just paperwork, Spencer. You didn't need to be there for that anyhow. None of you do, really.”

“But we are and now you don't have to be,” Morgan said, smiling. “Go dry him off and make sure he doesn't get sick.”

A little irritated, Spencer said, “I'm standing right here.”

Morgan grinned and said to Hotch, “See you later, Hotch,” before heading towards the small town police station.

Prentiss followed him with a smile at both of them before jogging to catch up. Naturally, she didn't find any of the black ice that had sent Spencer flying.

Spencer glared at Morgan's back, but didn't argue when Hotch put a hand on his arm and guided him back towards the hotel, which was only a few blocks from the police station. They'd finished the case that morning, thankfully saving a young girl taken by a collector and returning her to her parents. It would be a very happy Christmas for that family due to their work and for once, he didn't dread the holiday. He wouldn't be alone this time, like he had been for so long.

By the time they got to the hotel, Hotch had his arm around Spencer's shoulders in a vain attempt to warm him in the falling temperatures. The sun had set in those few minutes and it seemed like the mercury had fallen twenty degrees. Spencer was shivering nonstop when they entered the hotel lobby, teeth clacking together even though he tried to lock his jaw.

Hotch didn't even look at the woman behind the concierge desk, simply maneuvering Spencer to the elevator. It was right there and they were on the third floor and in his room five minutes later. His hands shook too much to do anything, so he simply stood there as Hotch unzipped his jacket and then pulled his shirt up.

“We need to get you in the shower,” Hotch murmured, undoing Spencer's belt and then his pants. “Come on.”

Spencer toed off his shoes and then shimmied out of his pants, the cold wracking him making the movement surprisingly easy. Stepping out of them, he practically ran to the bathroom feeling bone cold as he did. The hotel room had been too-warm before, but now he wanted it as hot as possible. He got the shower going and stepped under the spray as soon as he could.

Finally, blessed warmth. It struck him almost painfully at first and then bloomed all through his body. There was a last spasm of cold through him before his body adjusted to the drastic temperature change and then he groaned in pure pleasure at the heat.

Hotch walked into the bathroom and smiled as he asked, “Are you going to take off the rest of your clothes?”

Spencer belatedly realized he hadn't shed his boxers or socks and gave his lover a sheepish grin before moving to do just that. As he did, Hotch got undressed and then took the items from him, wringing them out over the sink before putting them with the dirty clothes. Spencer took the opportunity to watch his lover's body, secretly still disbelieving that the other man actually was his lover. It was such a strange happenstance, however incredible.

Hotch returned, unconcerned with his nudity in a way that Spencer envied. Then again, he didn't have Hotch's firm muscles or good looks; they gave the older man an advantage he just didn't have. Stepping into the tub, Hotch asked with gentle amusement, “Warmed up now?”

Spencer smiled shyly and put a hand on Hotch's hip. “Getting there.”

Hotch's answering smile was slow and brilliant and he tugged Spencer into his arms, holding him as he murmured, “I think I can help with that.”

Resting his cheek on Hotch's shoulder, Spencer knew that he would do a lot more than just that and smiled.