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For the first week of their newfound relationship, or agreement as such, Spencer and Hotch came up with a plan. Just something simple. Something that could ensure that Spencer was taking care of himself as well as being cared for efficiently.
Around work, it was difficult to find the time to join together in a personal capacity that ensured no team members, even though Spencer loves them to death, from prying into his or Hotch's business.
However, the two of them managed to come up with a little something that benefited them both.
Spencer found it difficult to find the will to eat. He always found making meals to be more of a chore and less of an enjoyment, even in eating it. When his father had left, it was often for Spencer's mother to forget to feed herself as well as Spencer, so more often than not Spencer found himself having to make meals for the both of them.
He had been forced to teach himself how to cook, but even to this day, it was never something he took pleasure in doing.
Each morning before work, Hotch would send a text message instructing Spencer what he wanted him to have for breakfast, whether it be something small, like a piece of fruit, or just a piece of toast and some coffee, or something easily constructed, like eggs and bacon.
Or some days, Hotch might simply say 'Don't make anything for breakfast this morning. I'm picking you up something from the cafe on the way through. Don't worry, you're getting a coffee too.' and on those days, Spencer found himself excited to get into work.
This way, Spencer was eating and taking care of his body in a safe and healthy manner and Hotch was able to provide for him, to feel comfort in Spencer's willing submission, and even just to know that Spencer trusted him to know what was best for him.
Lunch was something that was a little more difficult to properly execute. But typically the team would grab something back for Spencer, and if Spencer tried to brush the offer off and say he was fine with just coffee, Hotch would still get him something regardless.
This week they'd been free from any out-of-state cases, in fact, it was mainly normal paperwork reports for previous cases, going through statements and working through some cold cases at the BAU office.
Spencer could already feel himself brightening up. And all he'd been given were a few tasks and instructions to keep his mind at ease. Hotch hadn't dropped him yet, but they had plans to do it properly this Friday.
Spencer loved the daily tasks. Loved the subtle domming that Hotch would provide in the form of small commands and tasks, whether it be to grab Hotch a coffee with his own, or to fetch him something from Garcia. It was those small things that helped ease his mind.
Touch was something new to them. Hotch usually stuck with verbal domming, when Spencer needed it, but sometimes, if just to settle Spencer when he comes in stressed and tired after a poor night's sleep, Hotch will just invite Spencer to work in his office at the couch where it's quiet and no-one will bother him.
Hotch would greet him at the door—when closed and away from the prying eyes of their friends of course—with a gentle touch to the back of his neck; a telltale calming technique. It helped ground most submissives through the skin on skin touch. And Spencer was no different in that retrospect, even through his general touch aversion.
Hotch always asked before he could touch him, which Spencer appreciated, but he found himself wanting the touch. Needing to feel Hotch's palm gracing his own skin.
Friday came fairly quickly, even through the long hours of their job, and Spencer was nervous to say the least. He'd been put into subspace plenty of times by Morgan and JJ. He knew what it was like. With Ethan, they never got to the point where Spencer trusted him enough to fall too deep into the headspace.
This time felt…different. For one, it was actually a planned occurrence. It wasn't some spur of the moment phone-a-friend when he really needed to sub but couldn't get where he needed to be by himself.
Hotch had an actual plan for them. They'd talked it over. Spencer even had a go-bag ready because he'd be staying the night. Hotch had of course offered to do it at Spencer's apartment to begin with, but Spencer wasn't too fond of the imminent profiling that would come of it.
As usual, Spencer and Hotch were the last ones left for the night. It wasn't as late as last week when they'd had dinner after the case. It was barely 6pm, but the others had all left to fulfil a hopefully peaceful weekend. Spencer hoped that the same would be said for them.
Hotch was finishing up the last of his paperwork while Spencer sat at his couch, which seemed to be a common occurrence as of recent, though neither minded all that much. They both quite enjoyed the company.
"You ready to get going?" Hotch's voice breaks through the comfortable silence and Spencer is ashamed to admit that he actually jumps at the suddenness of the words, his head snapping towards the sound. Hotch's eyebrows raise, inquisitive about the slightly strange reaction. Spencer wasn't a jumpy person.
"Nervous?" Hotch guessed correctly. Although when Spencer truly thinks about it, it wasn't really a guess as much as it was a bit of obvious observation. Spencer wasn't exactly hiding his nerves through the tapping of his fingertips upon the arm of the sofa or in the jittering of his left leg.
"A little. I know we've gone through this at least three times by now, and I'm certain I want to do this, and honestly, I have no reason to be nervous, and I know that. I just—I guess I'm just not…used to being so willingly cared for like this." Spencer admits, gazing down at his shoes, eyeing the slight yellowing of the rubber toe caps.
"Willingly?" Hotch questions, even though Spencer was certain Hotch already knew what he meant by that.
"Don't get me wrong, Morgan and JJ are good at being able to Dom for me when needed, but that's just it. It's when needed. I have never really had a solid and constant support system. B-but now, I have…you." Hotch's eyes never once leave him as he speaks, even when Spencer was unable to return the contact, and he could feel the older's gaze bore into him.
It was intense, but it was a calming kind of intense.
"Well lucky for you, I'm going to be here for a while." The promise was clear, and so shockingly sincere. Spencer felt the words reverberating through his mind, sending a pleasant ache in his chest, and he exhaled, shoulders dropping any tension they held previously.
"Let's get going, then." Spencer says with a smile, relishing in the small proud grin he receives in return.
—
The moment they'd entered Hotch's apartment, Hotch was gently ordering Spencer to the couch in the living room while he rids himself of his suit jacket, draping it over the back of a dining chair before he studiously makes a start on dinner.
Under Hotch's instruction, Spencer began to make himself more comfortable. He removes his blazer and sweater-vest, leaving him in his baby blue button up and this green and brown pinstripe tie.
Spencer loosened his tie, though he doesn't fully remove it, just loosened it enough to unbutton the top button of his shirt.
His go-bag was at his feet and he wondered briefly whether there was somewhere he needed to put it, but for now he just pushed it with one odd-sock clad foot to settle beside the couch, out of the way.
Spencer wanted to help Hotch in the kitchen, to just do something. He knew that he'd been ordered to stay here, but he really needed something to do. Hotch did say that he could ask for what he wanted.
Spencer gets up from the couch, entering the kitchen shyly and he waits in the doorway, just silently observing the way Hotch flitters around the kitchen in smooth strides, his shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows and his tie is off.
"Sir?" Spencer called out softly, he knew that Hotch wasn't easily startled but he didn't want to announce his presence too abruptly. Hotch looks towards the open door, fixing his gaze to Spencer's nervous form.
"Spencer?" Is what Hotch finally says, it wasn't a reprimand for moving from where he's been ordered to be, though it wasn't a direct invitation.
"Can I—can I help with something? I just, is there anything I could do for you, Sir?" Spencer asks, a little bashful, but he hopes he gets the point across. Hotch smiles a little proudly and Spencer's shoulders drop the tension they were holding at the small gesture.
"Well done for asking me. If you'd like, while I prepare this to be put in the oven, you could set the table for me. The plates are in that cupboard and the cutlery is in that drawer right there. Once you're done, come back to me and I'll give you something else to do." Hotch instructs and Spencer nods his assent to the direction, thankful for the small task and he gets on with doing as asked.
Once Spencer had set up the table—Hotch had told him to set it up so that they were to be seated beside each other rather than across, but he provided no further explanation so Spencer didn't ask—Spencer rejoined Hotch in the kitchen, patiently and eagerly awaiting another task.
"Well done, Spencer, thank you for doing that for me. Now, I want you to grab two glasses and fill them both with water from the fridge and set them at the table too. Afterwards, dinner should be near enough done, so I want you to take a seat at the table."
Spencer allows his body to move for him as he fulfils the task at hand, mind already settling into a quiet, blissful state, and once finished he sits at the table where he has a good view of Hotch working in the kitchen across from him.
It wasn't long before Hotch was settling two dishes upon the table, one containing two perfectly cooked steaks, and in the other, some seasoned potatoes and vegetables. Spencer doesn't move to do anything, trusting that Hotch would take the lead. And he does.
Hotch divides the food up into portions on their plates once he takes his seat beside Spencer, and once directed, they begin eating, sharing light conversation throughout and it works on settling Spencer even further through the familiarity of it all.
After dinner, Spencer, being the polite young man he was, offered to clean up for Hotch who had gone through all the work of cooking for them. Hotch allows it, and with further confirmation that it was okay, Hotch leaves the room to sort something out.
For once, Spencer doesn't mind the silence he's left with. Usually the quiet never serves to ease him, and his mind would often fill the space up with some not-so-good thoughts. But right now, he feels comfort in it.
Maybe it was the fact that Hotch has done everything in his power to make Spencer comfortable tonight. Or maybe it was just that he felt safe here.
Hotch had only entered the room once while Spencer was cleaning up the dishes. He'd grabbed a water bottle from the fridge along with a straw, before informing Spencer to meet him in the living room once he was finished in the kitchen, and leaving again once Spencer had responded in assent.
When Spencer was certain he'd done everything he needed to, he ambled back into the living room, met with the sight of Hotch sitting on the coffee table that had now been pushed back farther from the couch.
Upon closer inspection, sat beside Hotch was the water bottle he'd seen Hotch retrieve earlier and a set of brown leather cuffs. There was also a plush cushion settled in front of the couch.
Spencer already knew what the plan for tonight was, but the sight of it all set out in front of him, sent a wave of pleasant anticipation right through him, the feeling lingering in his stomach.
"Are you okay, Spencer?" Hotch asks seriously, wanting to ensure that Spencer was still one-hundred-percent in this before they actually start.
"Yes, Sir. I'm a little nervous, but I trust you. I want this." Spencer says decidedly, walking forward into the room until he's closeby, but he doesn't make any further moves. He simply waits until his next command.
He would be handing over his control and letting Hotch decide for him for tonight. And right now, the only thought in his head was to just listen and obey, to follow Hotch's lead.
"Good. Kneel on the pillow, facing the couch, and when I ask you, I'd like you to give me each of your hands." Hotch commanded, voice settling into a deeper timbre, and a shiver ran through Spencer at the sound and he rushed to obey.
Spencer drops to his knees upon the cushion, shifting until he is in a comfortable enough position where he'd be able to stay still for a while. And he kept his palms on his lap until he was told to move them.
"Very good, Spencer. I'd like you to reach back with your left arm, please." Spencer picks up his left hand and reaches backwards. Hotch's fingers gently grasp around his wrist, the hold loose, but grounding all the same.
"Now, I know we've spoken about this already, but I'd like to confirm just one last time. Are you okay with me using these cuffs on you?" Hotch asks, still holding onto Spencer's wrist.
"Yes, Sir."
"Alright. Tell me your safeword." Hotch decreed, running his thumb across his pulse-point in a soothing manner.
"Azalea, Sir." Spencer confirms.
"Very good. I'm going to put the left cuff on you now."
Hotch carefully works on slipping Spencer's wrist into the first restraint, buckling it up before slipping his pinky finger through to ensure that it wasn't too tight. He asks anyway.
"It's perfect, Sir. Thank you."
"Right arm, please." Spencer obeys, giving Hotch his other arm and allows his wrist to be guided into the other cuff.
"Very good, Spencer. You're doing so well for me. I'm going to sit down on the couch in front of you, now." Hotch informs and Spencer lets out a happy sigh at the praise and feels his eyes gradually drifting shut, focusing only on the sound of Hotch's deep soothing voice and the feeling of soft leather binding his wrists.
Hotch takes a seat on the couch, legs on either side of Spencer's kneeling form and he gently directs Spencer to scoot forward so they're a little closer.
Spencer follows the instruction, shifting forward on his knees until his front is flush against the couch and Hotch's legs are bracketing his body.
"Good boy." Hotch praises, and Spencer quite literally keens into the hand that threads itself into his hair, earning a fond chuckle from the man the hand of which belongs to. The sound reverberates through his chest, warming him further.
"Here. Lay your head down on my thigh. Don't worry, I'm not going to take my hand away." and he gently guides Spencer's head down so that his cheek was resting upon Hotch's thigh.
Spencer was already half floating in subspace practically all evening, but with the fingers gliding through his hair, his knees pressing into the soft cushion below him, his hands bound behind him, and the soft and gentle praises, Spencer was falling deep.
Spencer wasn't even aware of how much time had passed when he heard Hotch's voice breaking through the quiet in his mind as he carefully guided Spencer back up into the real world.
"There you are." Hotch's voice was soft as Spencer lifted his head back up and Spencer found himself drawn to the tone as he blinked his eyes back open, thankful for the dim light in the room. Hotch's left hand was still in his hair, but his right was now holding the water bottle from earlier.
"Can you drink some of this for me?" Hotch instructs as he holds the straw closer to Spencer's lips, and only then does Spencer realise just how dry his mouth was, and he takes the straw into his mouth, sipping at the water.
Hotch doesn't take the bottle away until Spencer was the one pulling back and then when he does, Hotch places the bottle down on the side table, out of the way for the time being.
"I'm going to take those cuffs off you now, and then we can talk a little, alright?" Hotch notified and Spencer nods in accordance.
"I need words, Spence." The nickname passes through his lips like it was the most natural thing, Spencer thought it would sound weird coming from Hotch, but it sounded so right.
"Yes, Sir." Spencer manages and Hotch smiles proudly down at him. Hotch carefully retracts his hand and Spencer, near to god, almost whines at the loss, but he just settles back on his heels and lets Hotch stand.
Hotch rounds Spencer's kneeling form and settles into a crouch behind him before he works on unbuckling the cuffs from each of Spencer's wrists and pulling them out of the restraints.
Once they were off, Hotch doesn't let go of his wrists, instead he uses his thumbs to softly massage the area where the cuffs were, and Spencer relaxes completely as he allows the older man to work the circulation back into his wrists and hands.
After a couple minutes, Hotch returns Spencer's arms into a more neutral position, moving them slowly in case of any pain that may reside within his shoulders from the prolonged emplacement behind his back.
The moment Spencer regained mobility of his arms, he carefully rolled his shoulders, easing any ache that lingered, though there wasn't any pain there. Doing the same with his neck.
"You may stand whenever you'd like, and then I'd like you to join me on the couch." Hotch informs, gently patting Spencer's upper arm before he stands up, circling back around to sit on the couch, but this time he takes the seat on the other end of the couch to give Spencer some room to work with.
Spencer stands up, taking a moment to steady himself on his feet before grabbing the pillow up from the floor and pacing it back on the couch before Spencer moves to sit beside Hotch, his body pressing as much into Hotch's side as possible, and Hotch huffed out a small laugh but he moves his arm so that he could hold Spencer closer with a hand on his shoulder, pulling him in.
Both of them revelled in the contact.
"How're you feeling?" Hotch asks once they were both comfortable and Spencer nuzzles his head into the crook of Hotch's neck, mumbling his answer into the material of Hotch's dress shirt.
"Really good. Happy, warm. Thank you, Aaron, for doing this with me."
"You're welcome, Spencer. You were very good for me today. Can you tell me a bit about what you liked about what we did, and maybe anything you'd like to change or add for next time?" Hotch asks.
"I really liked the praise. Your voice is just so…soothing. The cuffs were perfect, different to how your hands felt but a good different. I liked it. That's the fastest I've fallen into Subspace, I've never gotten that deep with anyone before." Spencer admits a little shyly, like he's just admitted to something scandalous and not ridiculously sweet.
"Is that a good thing?" Hotch asks, though he was smiling.
"Definitely. You're a really good Dom, Aaron." Spencer nods, his hair tickling Hotch's neck.
"And you're a perfect Sub." Hotch acclaimed so openly and with so much truth and Spencer doesn't know what to say back to that. Luckily, Hotch was an excellent profiler and he swiftly changed the subject.
"Is there anything you'd like to do?" He asks and Spencer thinks for a moment, but in all honesty, he'd rather just stay here like this, held securely against a strong body. He felt safe right there in Hotch's arms.
"Can we just cuddle here for a little while?"
"Of course."
—
A month and a half in, Spencer was tucked into Hotch's side on the couch at Hotch's apartment, a place Spencer found he resided more often than his own home.
Right there, head resting on Hotch's shoulder with the older man's arm across his own, and their thighs pressed up against each other as they watch Doctor Who, did Spencer finally realise that he felt more for Hotch than he thought he had.
Before all of this started, 'tactile' wasn't even a word that came to mind when describing Hotch. Yet here he was, and here he has been the whole time, arms wrapped around Spencer, as if he belonged there.
Spencer recalls every smile Hotch had provided, every laugh, the soft look in his eyes as he looked at Spencer like he was the most precious being in the universe.
Spencer never even considered himself to be a tactile person. Germs irked him. He'd never even shaken someone's hand unless it was a vital procedure, but here he was, encased within Hotch's comforting hold, feeling the safest and calmest he'd ever felt and not even a thought about the germs they shared with the touch.
Only then does Spencer realise that they've naturally been progressing into a romantic relationship.
There was the blatant cuddling, the dates where Hotch would take him out to dinner then they'd end up cuddled up on the couch like they belonged there together, watching Spencer's favourite shows, and the way that they bid each other good morning and goodnight when Spencer was in his own home.
And even the way that most nights, Spencer would end up in Hotch's bed, sleeping the best he'd had in years and wake up with a warm, strong body at his back and an alarm that neither of them wanted to move to turn off.
Then there was breakfast, walking into the kitchen in their pyjamas, Spencer taking it upon himself to make them both coffee while Hotch fixes them breakfast. The domesticity of it all hit Spencer like a ton of bricks.
"Aaron?" Spencer says, and the name passes through his lips like he'd been calling the man that for years.
"Mhm?" Hotch hums in acknowledgment, and Spencer lifts his head from Hotch's shoulder, sitting up a little straighter as he pivots his torso to face the older man, Hotch's arm following the movement.
"Have we been dating this whole time?" Spencer asks outright, and Hotch tears his gaze from the TV to look at Spencer, eyebrows drawn together, only minutely, but it was noticeable.
Spencer watches as Hotch quite literally goes through this past month and a half in his mind, and eventually, it seems that he's gotten to the same conclusion as Spencer. They were literally dating and neither had realised it until now.
"Huh. I guess we have." Hotch speaks then, a small smile gracing his lips, and Spencer lets out a small huff of a laugh, shaking his head at his own obliviousness. For a genius, he sure did miss something pretty obvious.
"There's um, one thing we haven't done yet." Spencer says mildly, licking his lips as he looks back at Hotch, and his fingers twist together in his lap.
"And what would that be?" Hotch asks, though the slight shimmer within his eyes proves that Hotch knew exactly what Spencer was talking about, especially if the way those same eyes drop their gaze to Spencer's own, freshly wetted lips was anything to go by.
"This." Spencer breathes before he turns a little more toward Hotch and leans his head up until their breaths are ghosting each other and their noses are a millimetre away from touching.
Their eyes meet and a silent conversation is shared before Spencer's eyes were fluttering shut and he closed the distance to press his lips against Hotch's in a sweet, close-mouthed kiss.
Hotch's free hand moved to cradle Spencer's jaw, holding him gently and Spencer melted into the kiss, his own hand coming up to grip at the front of Hotch's t-shirt, the backs of his fingers resting against his chest and he could feel Hotch's heart beating against them.
They share a few more short kisses, just pecks, nothing too untoward, and their small content smiles break through as they detach their lips, forehead resting against forehead.
"I think I could do that all day." Spencer breathes out through a small giddy giggle as he pulls his head back to properly look at the other man's face. Hotch was grinning from ear to ear, dimples as clear as day.
"Well, we have a while to test that theory. Maybe we should try it out?" Hotch smirks and Spencer rolls his eyes playfully at the blatant attempt at flirting. Who knew the big bad boss could be so effortlessly romantic.
"Aaron, you know you could just say 'kiss me' right?" Spencer resorts playfully, though he leans in that much closer to the man, already submitting to the idea of kissing those lips again.
"Where's the fun in that? But I suppose if you insist. Kiss me, Spencer." Hotch commands with a meaningful grin.
"Yes, Sir."