You’re barely able to make it out of the hotel room the next evening.
“Aaron,” you breathe, half scolding, and half not wanting him to stop. You’re pressed against the wall next to the door, well aware of how late the two of you are. “Aaron, I don’t have time to cover up anymore marks.”
“I don’t care,” he says, his lips trailing up your jaw and to your cheeks, his breathing ragged. “I shouldn’t have packed this dress,” he mutters under his breath.
“I beg to differ,” you laugh, squeezing his biceps. “I feel hot in it.”
“Youarehot,” he says seriously, drawing back to look into your eyes. “That’s the problem.”
“Problem?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Aaron says firmly, pulling you into him by your waist. “I don’t want anyone looking at you. You’re mine.”
“Let them look,” you murmur, holding his face. “And then let them see me go home with you.”
He grins wildly, pressing another kiss to your lips, snaking his tongue inside your mouth, claiming you.
It’s too easy to give in, to forget about how fast time is ticking, how you were supposed to be in the lobby ten minutes ago. You know it’s only a matter of time before Dave comes looking for you both, but you can’t help it.
Aaron’s hand slithers underneath your dress, and you don’t protest. His fingers massage your clit and you gasp, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as he presses one digit into you.
He knows you want more, he does too, but this is all he can offer now. He knows as well as you that any moment, Dave will knock on the door right next to your two bodies.
“Come on,” Aaron whispers directly into your ear. “Just one. Let me feel you, baby.”
“Shit, Aaron,” you inhale sharply when he adds a second finger, curling them, pressing right against your sweet spot.
He knows what he wants, and he plans to get it. He is determined to make you fall apart in his arms one more time.
“There it is,” he shushes your cries as you come undone, writhing in his arms, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “That’s my girl.”
He doesn’t tease you for long, wanting you to calm down quickly so the two of you can get down to the lobby. Dave most likely knows what is happening, which is why he hasn’t come.
After a few deep breaths, you lift your head from his shoulder, giving him a look.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, and your glare melts away. “Ready?”
You playfully smack his arm. “Yes, I’m ready. I was ready an hour ago.”
He flashes a wicked smile as he takes your hand, opening the door to reveal Dave, his hand raised to knock.
“I was wondering when I’d see the two of you,” Dave says, a glint in his eyes telling you he knows everything.
You elbow Aaron in the ribs when he starts laughing.
+++
Every event you’ve gone to with Aaron has felt the same — except this one.
You can’t put your finger on why this one is so…different, but it is. Maybe it’s the people. But it might be the way Aaron is acting.
He hasn’t let you out of his sight since you arrived, which is normal, but to be more specific, he hasn’t let you out of his reach.
Normally, when he has to mingle, you slip away and head to the bar with the other wives, partners, girlfriends, and escorts of the night. Tonight, though, Aaron has kept a firm arm around your waist.
You don’t mind it, not really. You love being close to him. And you love that he’s openly showing you off and showing affection toward you.
But you can’t deny how strange it seems on top of his other behavior.
“Aaron, I need to pee,” you say quietly, trying to catch him during a lull in conversation.
He tilts his head down to speak to you privately. “Can you wait one moment?”
“I can walk myself,” you smile, wanting no one watching to think something is wrong. “It’ll be fine. I don’t want to interrupt you.”
“Are you sure?” He doesn’t seem too happy about the idea of you leaving his side, but he also knows he can’t stop you.
“I’ll be fine,” you say again, squeezing his arm. “Come here.”
Curiously, he tilts his head lower, smiling when you use the opportunity to kiss his cheek.
“Hurry back,” he says, and you nod.
You spot Dave across the room, knowing his eyes will follow you to the restroom and wait for you to exit. You can’t see Steven, but you’re sure he has eyes on you as well.
The bathroom is as crowded as always. Benches are inside that a few women are putting to good use, obviously needing escapes from their husbands to gossip. Their voices don’t even lower when you enter; they never do. Everyone’s business is anyone’s business here.
After taking your time washing your hands and listening to the gossip — you can’t help it; they mentioned an affair — you head back out to the party.
You quickly find Dave’s eyes and he nods, letting you know he’s seen you, and you return the gesture.
In the midst of this, you aren’t paying attention to where you’re walking and you nearly knock right into a man you don’t recognize.
“I’m so sorry,” you rush out, shaking your head at yourself. “I can be so clumsy in these heels.” The excuse falls out of your mouth with pure innocence. You scare yourself sometimes with how easily you can slip into your role here.
The man smiles kindly, taking your hand to help steady you. “It’s no problem at all, darling.”
You smile gratefully and hold onto his hand, using the time to readjust your heels, and to get a good look at the man.
He looks a little older than Aaron, but not by much. His hair has begun to gray, giving it the salt and pepper look that seems to be a trend nowadays. He wears a silver ring on his index finger that shines in the light when he kisses your knuckles.
“Lawrence,” he says, keeping his eyes on yours with a certain ferocity that sends a flurry through your chest. Butterflies or nerves, you’re not sure. “You can call me Greg. And you are?”
You open your mouth to reply with some other innocent comment, but you don’t get that far.
“With me,” Aaron’s voice interrupts abruptly, and his arm slides around your waist smoothly, possessively resting on your hip.
“Ah,” Greg drops your hand, smiling less kindly at Aaron. “I should’ve assumed, Mr. Hotchner.”
“Yes, you should’ve,” Aaron replies dryly, his fingers tensing against your skin.
“How have you been? Busy, I see.” Greg’s eyes flick toward you.
You frown, despising his implication. Judging by Aaron’s reaction, your distaste is founded. You step closer to Aaron, welcoming his embrace.
“Good to see you, too, Lawrence,” Aaron says through gritted teeth. “Excuse us.”
“You’re excused,” Lawrence says, and you swear, if Aaron wasn’t holding onto you, he would’ve throttled the man. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Not likely,” Aaron says, low enough only for you to hear as he begins to literally drag you away.
With his arm still around your waist, he walks briskly, looking around to be sure no one is watching before speeding up.
“Aaron,” you stumble a little, trying to get his attention. “Aaron. I can’t walk that fast in these heels— slow down.”
His response is to pick you up at the waist, just enough so your feet are off the ground, and he can move as fast as need be.
“Aaron!” you hit his chest, the angle and grip becoming uncomfortable after only a few seconds. “Let me down, for fuck’s sake, this is ridic— Thank you.”
Just outside the door, in the front entryway, you watch as Aaron speaks calmly into his wrist. “We’re out front.”
Your eyes go wide, seeing him talking into his wrist like you’re in a damn spy movie. “Who are you talking to? What— What the hell is going on?”
“We’re leaving,” Aaron says, his hands resting on your arms, his eyes searching your face. “Did he touch you? Are you hurt?”
“What?” you step closer, shaking your head. “No, he— I mean, he kissed my hand, but nothing else happened, you got there quick— Aaron. What the hell is happening?”
“Good,” he replies, but he still has a haunted look in his eyes, and he won’t answer your biggest question. “There’s Dave.”
You turn your head and see Dave briskly walking toward you.
“Steven’s getting the car,” Dave says, then turns to you. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” you reply, not meaning to sound so harsh, but you’re overwhelmed and you don’t know what’s going on and Aaron won’t answer you and you don’t know why they think you’d be injured. “I swear, I’m alright.”
Dave nods, looking up at Aaron with an expression you can’t read. Aaron is staring off, back down the hallway. His hands are still resting against the skin of your arms, squeezing ever so slightly, as if he keeps reminding himself that you’re here.
You want to kiss him, hold his face, or just do something to get his attention back, but you can’t.
Dave presses a finger to his ear for a second, then speaks. “Steven is outside. Let’s go. Your coats are in the car.”
You start to walk to follow behind Dave, but Aaron doesn’t move, so you pause, turning back to him.
“Hey. Aaron,” you whisper. “Aaron, we’re leaving, come on. We need to go.” You stroke his cheek gently, trying to get him to come back, and soon he does. “Let’s go home.”
Slowly, his eyes drag toward your face, and he nods. He leads you outside, careful not to walk too fast this time.
+++
You don’t ask anymore questions on the way back to the hotel. All you can do is hold Aaron in the backseat, or rather, let him hold you. He refuses to let you go.
He is quiet the entire way to the hotel, and up to the room. You hold his hand as he has his arm around your waist, and you lean into him as much as you can.
When he goes to shower, he wants you with him, so you comply, not wanting to leave him alone right now anyway. He washes your body gently, and you return the favor, careful around the scars on his abdomen, noticing the way he begins to tremble.
His breathing evens out shortly after the two of you lie in bed, but yours doesn’t. You’re too worried to bother closing your eyes. Instead, you watch his face, wishing you could soothe him in some way. His eyes move behind his eyelids, dreams that you hope aren’t becoming nightmares.
He wakes after an hour, surprised to find you staring at him, but he pulls you in tighter, kissing your nose. He leans his forehead against yours, sighing deeply, and goes back to sleep.
It’s hard not to relax in his arms, being held like this, and it isn’t long before you fall asleep, too.
+++
Aaron wakes again well before the sun, and does his best not to disturb you. He manages to slip from bed without waking you, silently promising to be back soon.
He steps next door and goes to knock, but Rossi opens the door before he can.
“I figured,” Rossi says.
“Can’t sleep?” Aaron asks, entering the room.
“Can you?” Rossi counters, shutting the door and flicking the deadbolt.
“Kind of,” Aaron replies. “Because of her. But only for a few hours.”
Rossi nods, smiling just a little. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Aaron moves past it quickly, pacing a circle in the room. “I need you to make a few phone calls.”
“About?”
Aaron meets Dave’s eyes, and he knows. They both know.
“Alright,” Rossi says, walking over to grab his phone off its charger. “I’ll start now.”
“Dave, it’s four a.m.”
“And?” Dave questions, already opening his contacts list. “You and I both know it can’t wait.”
“I know,” Aaron says, defeated. He crosses his arms, hanging his head. “I hope I’m wrong. I hope this…this gut feeling isn’t right. For once.”
“Me too,” Dave replies somberly. “But we won’t know until I talk to some people. And you without sleep won’t help anyone, so go back to bed. Don’t let her wake up alone, not after tonight.”
That is enough for Aaron to move, returning to bed with you, relieved to see you haven’t moved. You’re safe and soundly sleeping, unaware of the horrors he has lived. And the horrors that come back to haunt him.
Megan makes you double, then triple check that you have everything for Chicago. Especially your birth control.
“It’s easy to forget!” she argued, but you assured her that you have an alarm set on your phone, and Aaron has one on his.
The fact that Aaron put an alarm on his phone, too, did strike you as odd, but you haven’t questioned it – or anything else he does. He always seems to have a good reason, which you’re sure he does now as well.
Once you’re ready to go, Aaron picks you up from your apartment to head to the airport.
I keep seeing a lot of people say they’re confused because they forgot about the name change (which is so valid!!)
I changed the name because I pretty much have completely diverged from the 50 Shades plot line at this point, and wanted to reflect that
((But I did also go on a hiatus/break right after changing it because college kicked my ass academically Junior year is the hardest year y’all have been WARNED))
I have nothing to say because Chelsey and I have been WAITING for this part so I’m simply going to let y’all just have it while I go do some writing Love ya!
Warnings: angst :(
You’re still half asleep when you’re boarding Aaron’s private jet the next morning.
He got you up and out of the hotel in a rush, saying that he had work to get back to, and you had classes, and so on. You were too tired to bother questioning him.
Now, just an hour away from home, you’re trying to pry information out of Aaron — and it’s like pulling teeth.
“He said his name was Greg Lawrence,” you start, hoping Aaron will fill in the blanks for you, but all he does is nod. He has his laptop open, either trying to work or trying to appear busy so you won’t ask questions. “You two know each other.”
“Kneweach other,” he grumbles out. “A long time ago.”
Well, that struck a nerve.
“Okay,” you pause, eyeing him. “You kneweach other. I’m assuming he’s also some big lawyer. Were you guys on a case together?”
“No.”
“Were you on a case againsteach other?”
It takes Aaron a second, but he does reply. “Yes.”
“What was the case?” you ask, propping your elbow on the table, and resting your chin in your palm.
“I can’t discuss information about cases.”
“You said it was years ago.”
“It doesn’t matter how long it’s been.”
“Aaron, come on. Who am I gonna tell?”
His eyes meet yours above his laptop. “I don’t know. Who wouldyou tell?”
The accusatory nature of his comment stuns you. You straighten your posture and remove your elbow from the table as if he’s burned you with it.
“No one,” you reply firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’ve kept a lot of secrets for you.”
“I know,” he mutters. “I’m not making you carry anymore.”
“It wouldn’t—”
“Y/N,” he raises his voice slightly, just enough to get your attention. “I said no.”
You stare at him for a moment, your gaze hardening with every passing second. You think of what you could say, but you don’t say a word.
Without speaking, you stand and head toward the front of the plane.
“There’s only two seats up there,” Aaron calls out. One of which, Dave is occupying.
You don’t give a shit. You raise your middle finger behind you, aimed at Aaron. He sees. If he weren’t already on edge about the current situation, he’d bend you over his knee right here.
You pull the door open, revealing the cockpit. Dave cranes his neck to see who’s at the door, his eyebrows raising when he spots you. He tries to smile, but you shake your head.
Dave quickly stands and offers you his seat, which you take, despite the weird feeling at seeing the open sky in front of you.
“What happened?” Dave asks quietly, his hand resting on your shoulder.
“Nothing,” you mumble. “He won’t tell me what’s going on and he’s being a dick about it. I’ll be fine. I’m just mad right now.”
Dave nods. He understands Aaron’s reasoning, but there’s no need for Aaron to be a jerk toward you. “Got it. You stay up here. I’ll sit with him.”
“Thanks,” you say, turning and smiling at the pilot, settling in for the rest of the ride.
+++
Aaron cusses under his breath when he sees Dave emerge from the front of the jet. This is just what I fucking need right now. He angrily types on his computer while he waits.
Silently, Dave takes the seat across the aisle from Aaron, and doesn’t look at him. That’s the quickest way to make Aaron squirm.
“Out with it,” Aaron finally says.
“She deserves to know,” Dave says, keeping his voice low. “If Greg has eyes on her now…”
“Then it’s even more reason to keep her out of it,” Aaron replies. “She’s in the line of danger enough as it is being seen with me. I just didn’t think that bastard would be there. Wasn’t he banned from that fundraiser?”
“Apparently not anymore,” Dave says. “He can buy anyone off, you know that. And if he has a target locked on her, we need to protect her.”
“I am,” Aaron grumbles. “By keeping her out of it.”
“Listen to yourself,” Dave says, leaning forward. “If you keep her at any more of an arm’s length, I’m afraid soon she won’t be around at all. And then what are you going to do? How do you expect to protect her if she wants nothing to do with you? Do you really want a restraining order in the news, too, if the rest of this goes to hell?”
“She wouldn’t get a restraining order.”
“You don’t knowthat,” Dave replies. “But my point still stands. You either tell her the truth or you let her go — immediately.”
Aaron all but slams his laptop closed. “What good will that do?” he hisses. “He’s already seen me with her.”
“If you drop her quickly, everyone will assume she was just an escort for a few weekends. You get a new girl for the next few, and then another.” Dave mimics wiping his hands. “Done and done, then they’ll forget about her. Is that what you want?”
Aaron doesn’t say anything, but Dave hears his friend loud and clear.
Aaron doesn’t wanta new girl.
He doesn’t want to let you go. Because you’re not just some escort.
You’re his girl.
He knows it. He can feel it deep in his bones. He can’t ignore it.
He can’t hurt you. But he can’t tell you everything — not right now.
+++
Watching the jet land from the front is a different (scarier) experience than you anticipated, but you survive it by closing your eyes. Even after you feel the plane stop, you keep your eyes closed.
“You can open your eyes now, ma’am,” the pilot says softly, chuckling a little.
You pop your eyes open and smile sheepishly. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he replies, standing and offering his hand. You take it and get to your feet, always feeling a little wobbly after being in the air. He lets go and then opens the door, gesturing for you to walk through first.
You thank him again and walk through, immediately heading down the stairs to the tarmac without looking at Aaron or Dave.
You wait for them to come down, with your arms crossed and your back turned. You haven’t thought about what you’ll say to Aaron. You don’t want to stay mad at him like this forever, but you’re getting tired of the wall he’s put up.
He won’t talk to you and it’s driving you up a wall. Why did he think you were injured? All Greg did was steady you and kiss your hand. That kind of attention has become normal to you, especially at those events.
It’s obvious Aaron and Greg don’t like each other, but nothing about your interaction with Greg – and you know Aaron saw it all – made you feel in danger of being hurt. You’ve been in situations like that before, and that’s not the gut feeling you had. What did Aaron see that you didn’t? What has Greg done?
Your thoughts are broken by Aaron’s hands gently rubbing your shoulders. You smile at the horizon.
Slowly, he turns you around, and pulls you into a hug.
You welcome his embrace, burying your head in his chest. You close your eyes, squeezing him.
You have no idea how much the hug means for Aaron, how much he needed it.
You let go of the hug sooner than Aaron wanted, but he doesn’t try to pull you back.
“Can we have dinner tonight?” he asks. “Please?”
You think for a moment, and shake your head. “Not tonight. I’m tired and…” Still mad at you. And scared. And I need to cool off. “What about tomorrow?”
Aaron exhales through a smile, just glad you didn’t outright tell him no. “Tomorrow it is.”
+++
When you reach your apartment, Dave goes and does a quick sweep again. This time, he finds Megan and nearly scares the shit out of her. She comes to the door and sees you in the hallway with Aaron.
“Who the hell is this guy?” She points back into the apartment.
“It’s just Dave,” you laugh, walking into her arms for a hug. “What are you doing home?”
“Sean spent the weekend here,” Megan says, smiling at Aaron. “He said to tell you he’d be at your place.”
Aaron sighs. “Of course he is. Thank you.”
“No problem,” Megan chuckles. “I hope Dave doesn’t find anything. I’ve been home all day.”
“It’s all clear,” Dave says from just inside. “Thank you for stepping out.”
“Yeah,” Megan nods. “How was the weekend?”
“It was good,” you smile. “I’ve got some homework to catch up on, though, so.”
“That’s our cue,” Dave says, stepping further down the hall.
You take Aaron’s hand gently, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he repeats. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” you smile. You know he will.
As the two of them disappear into the elevator, Megan all but hauls you into the apartment.
After shutting the door, she says, “What the hell? Does he normally come check the apartment before you can come in?”
“Yeah,” you shrug. “He’s always done it.”
Megan exhales and shakes her head. “Okay. I mean, is it necessary?”
You shrug again. “Aaron feels like it is.”
Megan doesn’t really like this answer, either, but she nods anyway, accepting it.
You can’t accept it, though. You have to tell her something. Aaron won’t talk to you about it, but you know Megan will hear you out and sit in your confusion with you.
“Do you remember when you told me to be careful?”
“Which time?” Megan jokes, but quickly recovers herself when she sees the serious look on your face. “Okay, about what?”
“About being with Aaron,” you say. “You told me you read something and it was like out of a Stephen King novel.”
Megan nods. “It was, but I don’t know if it was true–”
“Was he stabbed?” you blurt.
Slowly this time, she nods. “He was.” She pauses, swallowing. “Nine times, I think.”
You think of Aaron scars, and nine sounds right, give or take.
“Why?” Megan asks. “Did something happen?”
“No,” you say, probably a little too quickly. “He told me that he had been stabbed. I had seen the scars, but he didn’t say anything about them until this weekend.”
“They covered it up pretty well,” she says. “It’s nowhere on the Internet, and I can’t even find what I saw the first time. I tried looking again when you two got together— Hey! I was worried!”
You laugh at her, then turn serious again. “Do you remember what it said? I mean, he was stabbed, yes, but by who?”
“Oh,” Megan waves her hand. “Some random white guy. George, I think was his name. He’s in prison for life, though, probably dead by now, who knows.”
“Are you sure?” you press.
“Yes,” Megan says, chuckling uneasily. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing, just…” You finally bite the bullet and explain what happened at the event last night, and how odd Aaron has been acting ever since. “And he won’t explain anything, so you know me. My mind has been going wild just thinking about what could be going on.”
Meanwhile, Megan is Googling something on her phone. “Oh!” She turns the screen around to show you. “Duh. I knew I recognized his name. Lawrence and Hotchner are basically rivals, as textbook as it can get. Seriously, why didn’t you just look up his name?”
“That feels like an invasion of privacy,” you murmur, getting a weird feeling just from seeing Greg’s face again. “But yeah, that’s him.”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t worry,” Megan shrugs, locking her phone. “They’ve been at each other ever since Hotch started his career. Lawrence was the big name, and then Hotch came in and stole his thunder. Trust me, it was big. I meant to ask him about it in the interview, but y’know.”
It makes sense, given what little bit Aaron did tell you. But something about it still seems off, or like a piece is missing. You just don’t know what.
“Come on, let’s have a movie and homework night,” Megan pleads. “It’ll be one of our last ones, and it’s been too long since we’ve done one.”
“Okay, okay,” you reluctantly agree, knowing you need to catch up on homework, so why not do it with a movie and popcorn?
Summary: You’re in your last semester of college and your senior project consists of a novel written in a genre you haven’t yet explored before. Romance. There’s one small problem, though. You’ve never experienced romance before and the thought of true love kind of makes you want to gag. It’s partly because of your own issues, and partly because, well, guys yourage just don’t do it for you. So what happens when you stumble into a meeting with an older guy who is willing to show you the ropes of romance, with no strings attached?
General themes/warnings: smut, BDSM, Dom/sub relationship, Daddy/Sir kink, age gap (like 20 years folks), somewhatof a sugar daddy relationship, and there will be chapter specific warnings as well
This is being beta’d by the lovely @chelseyjoyce <3
Full Disclaimer: I do not own the 50 Shades of Grey name, plot, characters, or anything else affiliated. This is simply a parody where I am borrowing elements, but this is all my own writing, unless stated otherwise (I will give credit if/when I use dialogue from the first movie).
Although I will be borrowing elements from the first movie (I’ve never read the books and don’t plan to), I will be changing things throughout. Healthy BDSM will be portrayed here, talked about, and explicitly written.
This fic is 18+ only. I feel like this goes without saying, but just in case, here it is. If you’re a minor, don’t interact with this fic. I was a minor once too, so I understand the curiosity, but please respect my boundaries here and look for a different fic to interact with (I have another Hotch fic on my Masterlistcalledintelligence & issues that you are more than welcome to read!) (yes, I know i&i has smut too, but it’s much less hardcore than what will be in this fic)
did some work tonight and added prev chapter/next chapter links and links back to the fic’s masterlist and my hotch masterlist on all the chapters to make reading easier <33
(and yes i already have the next chapter written )
Warnings: did anyone order shower sex? it’s brief but also angst
Megan makes you double, then triple check that you have everything for Chicago. Especially your birth control.
“It’s easy to forget!” she argued, but you assured her that you have an alarm set on your phone, and Aaron has one on his.
The fact that Aaron put an alarm on his phone, too, did strike you as odd, but you haven’t questioned it – or anything else he does. He always seems to have a good reason, which you’re sure he does now as well.
Once you’re ready to go, Aaron picks you up from your apartment to head to the airport.
Megan makes you double, then triple check that you have everything for Chicago. Especially your birth control.
“It’s easy to forget!” she argued, but you assured her that you have an alarm set on your phone, and Aaron has one on his.
The fact that Aaron put an alarm on his phone, too, did strike you as odd, but you haven’t questioned it – or anything else he does. He always seems to have a good reason, which you’re sure he does now as well.
Once you’re ready to go, Aaron picks you up from your apartment to head to the airport.
It has become so natural for you both that he doesn’t even need to ask if you’d like to stop somewhere for coffee. He already has it when he picks you up, waiting in the cupholder for you.
When you see it, you smile, instantly melting. The sweet gesture earns Aaron a kiss on the cheek, and then on the lips because as much as he loves it when you kiss his cheek, he loves it more when he can kiss your lips.
“I have to do a little work while we fly,” Aaron says, sounding regretful.
“That’s perfect, me too,” you reply, sipping your coffee. It’s the exact order you always get, but somehow it tastes better because he got it for you.
“How is the book?”
“Still barely a novella,” you grimace, then realize that he probably doesn’t know what that means. “I’m getting closer to the word count I need, but I’m not quite there.”
“You’ll get there,” he assures you gently. “Has our…agreement helped?”
You smirk around the lid. “Yes. In fact, it has.”
“Good,” he says, sounding almost noncommittal, but you see a smile fighting to stretch across his lips. “I’m glad.”
“Me too,” you murmur, gazing out the window to hide your smile, and to appear as nonchalant as him.
The drive to the airport and onto the tarmac is smooth and quick, as always. Dave is waiting on the jet, and when he sees Aaron’s car pull up, he comes down the steps with a wave.
“Miss Y/N, lovely to see you.” He clasps your hand in his and kisses your knuckles. A new greeting from him, but one you welcome. It’s clearly natural to him, and you smile to let him know it’s just fine with you.
Aaron comes around the car with suitcases in both hands, giving them to one of the crew members to load into the jet.
“Have you ever been to Chicago?” Dave asks you, turning to offer you his arm as you step up onto the stairs. “We’ll let him carry the luggage for once, yeah?”
You snicker, knowing Aaron heard that. “I haven’t.” You carefully head up the stairs to the entrance, ducking so you don’t hit your head. “Have you?”
“Many times,” Dave sighs, letting go of your arm to gesture you down the aisle. “Not all happy memories, but most are.”
Curious at heart, you can’t help but ask further questions. “What were the unhappy times?”
Dave sits across the aisle from you, a sad smile on his face. “Those were my days in the FBI.”
“Oh,” you nod. That makes sense.
“Some cases were gruesome, but had happy moments – even though that sounds contradictory. The times together with my team made the cases bearable.”
“Are you telling her tales for any good reason?” Aaron asks, walking past Dave to sit directly next to you. He has a scowl on his face that you don’t understand.
“Just because she asked,” Dave replies, giving you a wink. “I’ll be up with the captain again, should you need me,” he pauses, looking at you, “and should hehave too much of an attitude.”
You can’t help the giggle that escapes your throat, wondering what has gotten into Aaron and Dave since you last saw them. Aaron’s glare follows Dave up to the cockpit, and only relaxes when you put your hand on his arm.
“Hey,” you whisper, shaking him a little. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Aaron replies quickly, covering your hand with his. “I just don’t like him telling you stories.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “I’m a writer, Aaron. I like to hear stories.”
“I know,” he says, exhaling like he has a mountain of stress inside of him. “I know,” he repeats, as if he’s trying to convince himself of something.
+++
Aaron has been acting so strangely that you’ve treated him almost like you would a wounded animal.
He has wanted you in his line of sight and within reach no matter where you are, which you don’t entirely mind, but it has worried you.
Dave did a quick sweep of the hotel room before you and Aaron were allowed to enter, despite all the security at this hotel. Still, Dave’s room is right next door, and Steven flew into town to take the room on the other side.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think something was wrong.
But you don’t question it, and you don’t dare bring it up to Aaron. It’s probably just normal protocol, with some added precautions because of his heightened stress and anxiety surrounding this trip.
You just keep reminding yourself that he most likely has good reasons for not filling you in. Maybe you aren’t allowed to know, maybe it’s confidential.
You’re not sure if that is comforting or not.
Ignorance is bliss, or is it? You can’t decide.
The actual event isn’t until tomorrow, so the two of you have the rest of the night to yourselves. Or a more accurate description might be that you have the night to yourself. If Aaron continues to be off in his own world.
He’s at the desk in the room with his laptop open, and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He worked the entire flight, and you wrote, so you didn’t mind his preoccupied presence. But now you are taking a break, and you wish he would, too.
“Aaron,” you say, getting an idea.
His eyebrows barely raise.
“I’m going to take a shower,” you say, sliding off the bed.
He nods, another barely-there response.
You stare at him for a moment before rolling your eyes, heading into the bathroom alone.
You leave the door open, a silent hope, but part of you knows he won’t join you.
The shower has glass walls instead of a curtain, a sight you’re getting more and more used to as you take these trips with him. You’re spoiled at this point, honestly.
Steam fogs up the glass quickly, and you welcome the sight, knowing the water will soothe your muscles. You peel your clothes off and leave them in a pile by the counter, ready to stand under the warm stream.
You’re too busy listening to the water and letting it pour directly over your face to notice when Aaron steps in behind you. You let out a frightened squeal.
“It’s just me, little one,” he whispers into your ear as his hands wander around your body, pressing your back into his front. “You’re mad at me.”
Despite yourself, you relax into him. “Maybe.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding sincere. “Can you forgive me?”
“Maybe,” you smirk, feeling his hands travel lower.
“How about now?” he asks, sliding one finger inside you.
You grip his arm tightly, too turned on by feeling his breath on your neck and his erection pressed into your lower back. “Maybe,” you insist, earning a chuckle from Aaron.
His fingers are as skillful as ever, and he uses both hands. One on your clit, the other inside you. He keeps you stationary against him, allowing you only brief movement to squirm, but never far enough from him. He works you to a climax easily, and sucks a mark onto your neck as you calm down.
You manage to turn and face him. His arms stay wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him.
“Now?” he questions.
You shake your head. “Nice try.”
He kisses you, slow and sweet. “You’ll be the death of me,” he says, in between.
“And you me,” you whisper, letting your hands cup his face so you can kiss him longer, tugging him back in when he tries to pull away.
The two of you waste hot water standing there, only making out, something you haven’t only done in a while.
Aaron backs you against the opposite wall of the shower when the water turns cold – though he doesn’t have enough time to bother turning it off. Your lips are too important a priority to abandon.
You stroke him while his lips are on your collarbone, earning a deeper mark that makes your eyes roll back. He growls into your skin, his fingers clenching on air, pressed against the shower tile to keep from bruising you further.
“God, woman,” Aaron curses after he cums against your hip. He leans most of his weight against you, panting into your neck. “God.”
You laugh a little, holding onto his hips before running your fingernails across his arms. His breath hitches and you remember not to scratch too much – unless you want to get thrown into bed.
Admittedly, you don’t even understand what you’re doing when you get him so riled up. You just follow his moans and do whatever he responds most to, which appears to work.
Once the water has some warmth to it again, Aaron decides you two should actually shower and wash away the jetlag. He pampers you a little more than you expect, but you don’t protest. Your arms are too tired to try washing your hair or body right now.
Toweling off, you walk back into the room in search of pajamas. You find one of Aaron’s shirts and slip it on without thinking, getting caught red handed when he looks for it himself.
“You can wear it,” he says, stopping you from pulling it over your head. “It looks much better on you.”
You expect him to put a shirt on to sleep, but he doesn’t. He gets in bed only in boxers, and holds the covers up for you to slide in next to him.
You start out facing him, wanting to fall asleep this way, though you normally roll away from each other in the night anyway. He doesn’t seem to mind at all, wrapping one arm around you and pulling you closer.
You smile at the action, glad he wants you close despite how he’s been acting.
Maybe it isn’t the right time to bring his scars up again, but you can’t help yourself.
Your hands instinctively go to his chest, and you find the raised skin. Your fingers freeze, as if you’ve hurt him, but he makes no moves to flinch away.
Instead, he stares at you intently. Almost as if he’s waiting for you to say something.
“Will you ever tell me what happened?” you ask.
There’s no malice behind your words, only genuine curiosity. You want to know if it’s something you’ll one day know, or if it’s something he wants to keep to himself forever. Either is fine, but you want to know which it is, to save yourself the worry.
Aaron is quiet for a moment, and you’re certain he’s going to say he doesn’t want to talk about it. But he doesn’t.
“I was stabbed,” he says softly, his fingers tensing against your skin, like merely saying the word makes him relive it all over again. “It happened a year ago.”
You try to hide your surprise, but you know you fail. “Aaron, I…” You try to compose yourself for his sake. “Are you okay? Did they catch who did it? I–”
“They did,” he says. “He’s in prison, you don’t need to worry. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I know, but…” You pause, your fingers freely moving against his skin, over the scars. “I just.” Wasn’t expecting that.Didn’t think that was what you’d say. But what else could’ve made these marks if not a knife? You were kidding yourself to think anything else happened.
“Stop,” he whispers, kissing your forehead. “You don’t need to worry.”
“He’s in prison?” you ask.
Aaron nods. “For life. He’s gone.”
“Okay,” you breathe, looking into his eyes. “Thank you for telling me.”
He smiles, soft and sad, like he’s never heard that before. He doesn’t reply, only pulls you closer, and tucks you into his chest, kissing the top of your head.
“Sleep, little one,” he says after a few moments. You do.
I have nothing to say because Chelsey and I have been WAITING for this part so I’m simply going to let y’all just have it while I go do some writing Love ya!
Warnings: angst :(
You’re still half asleep when you’re boarding Aaron’s private jet the next morning.
He got you up and out of the hotel in a rush, saying that he had work to get back to, and you had classes, and so on. You were too tired to bother questioning him.
Now, just an hour away from home, you’re trying to pry information out of Aaron — and it’s like pulling teeth.
