Work Text:
(Ø)
A Dynamic Encounter
(Ø)
"I told you to kneel, boy."
Spencer scoffed at the repeated order. No amount of psychological analysis would ever be able to explain why these new agents, fresh from the Academy and still untested in the field, thought that their dynamic gave them a power above their security clearance and outside of their own relationships. Dominants hadn't had free range over submissives in at least fifty years (give or take, depending on which state one was in), but these entitled jerks still managed to infiltrate the ranks of the FBI and other federal agencies. They also insisted on treating any submissive or switch they came across like a naughty child that they had the authority to correct personally.
While he wasn't looking forward to the paperwork that the necessary report would require, Spencer was already anticipating the other fallout that this encounter was going to cause. That more than anything is what made him lean against the nearby wall to stare down the latest asshole dominant.
The man had on a dove gray suit that had been bought off the rack—not necessarily a sign of anything, as many agents didn't put much effort into their appearances beyond the bare minimum. He had paired it with a navy blue tie with indigo pinstripes that was clearly a gift as it was far above the quality of the suit. More telling was the brass pin in the center shaped like a skeleton key. That was the symbol of a so-called dominant rights group that was a poorly concealed hate group.
It was abundantly clear that the dom had only seen either Spencer's collar peeking above his shirt or more likely, the scarlet circle pinned to the lapel of his sweater vest. The pin was required just as much as the black bar pinned to the man's. Spencer had a gut feeling that this agent (who didn't even bother to introduce himself before demanding that Spencer kneel for him in the middle of a semi-busy hallway) would lose his mind over the purple square that Morgan wore as a switch.
"And what reason do I have to listen to you?" Spencer asked, his head cocking to the side as if in genuine curiosity. After a deliberate beat of silence, he added with a knowing smile, "sir".
"Don't make this harder on yourself, boy," the agent replied as he stepped closer to Spencer. He even went as far as to reach out and grip Spencer's shoulder hard enough that he was definitely going to have a bruise. Then the dom pressed downward as if he was going to force Spencer to kneel. After a moment of resistance, Spencer decided to follow the directive, folding his gangly limbs with a grace that few had ever witnessed. The tile beneath his knees was cold and far from soft, but Spencer knew that he wouldn't be in the position long. His team, especially the dominants, were likely already on their way. It was just a matter of which one would arrive first.
Agent Idiot had better hope it was either Morgan or Garcia. Well, maybe not Garcia. There were times that she considered it foreplay to tear apart a dom who casually ignored boundaries and social norms.
"See?" the agent asked as Spencer dropped his gaze to the space between his knees. "This is where a sub like you belongs, not walking around like you're an actual agent. You just needed someone to take you in hand and teach you, didn't you?"
Spencer didn't bother dignifying that with any kind of verbal response. He did let out a low hiss of pain as fingers fisted in his hair and yanked his head backwards sharply. He ran his gaze over the man's face, further detailing it into his eidetic memory. Spencer thought about continuing his silence and just wait for someone to intervene, but the agent's grip in his hair was really starting to hurt and why should he spare this idiot the warning?
"You don't know who I am, do you?"
Spencer's teeth clicked as the Dominant shook his head roughly. The familiar taste of his own blood bloomed in his mouth as his tongue got caught between them. Damn, that would definitely affect his dinner plans.
"I don't care who you are, sub. You're beneath me. That's all I need to know."
"Let me correct you, Agent," Aaron Hotcher said as he approached from behind Spencer. Hearing the familiar voice, Spencer closed his eyes in relief. He hated having his hair pulled. It was always uncomfortable and put his neck at an angle that made it ache. Spencer focused on listening to the almost silent footsteps as the head of the BAU neared. "He is everything and so far above you that I'm amazed you dare to even touch him. I will pass along the need to revisit recruitment parameters."
The agent laughed harshly, more like the baying of a hound than anything human. Spencer made sure to stay as still as possible. Hotch would handle things from here on out, and in the same decisive manner that he always did. All Spencer had to do would be ready to act in whatever way was natural for whatever opening he was given.
"And who the hell are you? Some paper-pusher sent from HR because it looks like I'm taking it too far?"
The dom (because there was no way he would still be an agent after this) waved his free hand towards the security camera stationed near the ceiling. He wiggled the fingers even, like it didn't matter that his violation of federal law was being recorded. The hand in Spencer's hair yanked again. Spencer couldn't have hidden the wince even from someone not trained to track body language.
"I'm going to tell you this once," Hotch said with a tone as cold and hard as the one he used when facing down unsubs. Spencer relaxed even further at the sound of it. "Let go of him now and leave report directly to HR for your exit interview."
"You can't fire me," the dom snapped. Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer saw Hotch raise an eyebrow. It was the only hint of an expression on his stoic face.
The dom growled and let go of Spencer's hair with enough force to shove him away. Without hesitation, Spencer walked on his knees just enough to press against Hotch's leg. Hotch dropped his hand to Spencer's head. His fingers were much gentler as they ran through Spencer's hair. Spencer sighed as he pressed his forehead harder against Hotch's leg, his eyes slipping shut as Hotch moved his hand to rest against the nape of Spencer's neck.
Distantly, he heard Prentiss greeting the dom at the end of the hallway. She would make sure that Hotch's order was followed, and she was likely being backed up by Morgan, too. If the arrogant dom was lucky, he might get away with just being fired and barred from government service. Garcia could be particularly nasty when she wanted to be, and in ways that did not require her to ever be in the presence of her target. She could chase down any kind of revenge she wanted as well.
"Let's get you back to our department," Hotch said after a long moment. He gave Spencer's neck a comforting squeeze. "I think JJ should be on her way back up with lunch by now. At least you managed to get your file dropped off before you were interrupted."
"Don't you have to go to HR?"
"Garcia already forwarded all the relevant information," Hotch answered as he helped Spencer back to his feet. Which was good, because Spencer was starting to feel under the weather now that the adrenaline was wearing off. "Any supplementary documentation can wait."
"The cold case—"
"Will still be there after we sort out this drop."
Spencer blinked, having not realized what the shivering and growing numbness probably meant given the events of the last little bit. Thankfully, Hotch didn't seem to require any kind of verbal response, just Spencer's compliance to the directed movements. It took no more than a blink of time for them to enter the bullpen of the BAU from the upper entrance. Garcia was waiting for them near the door to the conference room, wringing her hands worriedly. Spencer curled into her as he accepted the hug she offered so readily. He would gladly stay like that as long as it would take to satisfy Garcia's anxiety. Rossi and JJ were arguing good-naturedly over the boxes of Indian takeout they were arranging on the table.