Welcome to the Club; Hotch/Rossi; PG-13
Oct. 26th, 2008 04:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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geekystudmuffinTitle: Welcome to the Club
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
innerslytherin and severity_softly
Pairing: Hotch/Rossi
Rating: PG-13 (at most!)
Spoilers: mild season four spoilers
Word count: ~2,300
Summary: "That isn't a club I want to be part of," Aaron said.
"Too late," Dave replied.
Notes: RP format. Takes place immediately after the end of Paradise; a coda to the last conversation Hotch and Rossi shared in that episode.
It hadn't exactly been the nicest thing to say, but then David Rossi could never have been accused of particularly caring whether what he said was going to piss someone off or not. All three of his marriages had ended amicably enough, as much as divorces could, but Dave would never delude himself into thinking that his mouth hadn't had a lot to do with the state of disrepair that at least two of those three had fallen into. As much as he hoped Aaron wouldn't go the same way--would have been devastated, in fact, if Aaron did--he still, at times, had trouble censoring himself for the sake of people's feelings, even Aaron's.
"Welcome to the club." Aaron hadn't reacted. Not really. But he had walked away. And they didn't share an SUV on the way to the jet. And they hadn't sat together on the flight home either. So when they got back to Quantico, Dave went to his car without a word, and trusted that Aaron would come to him, in the case that he really needed to talk about what was said, or even chew Dave out. They didn't fight often, but it happened, and usually they were some of the most cathartic conversations they had.
Aaron had spent the past several hours seesawing between being furious at himself and being furious at Dave. Of course, every time either emotion got too strong, the guilt rose up to swamp it, and he started all over at just plain miserable. He was starting to think he'd lost whatever edge he'd had that made him a good profiler. He'd screwed up in New York, he'd screwed up in Colorado, and on this case he'd talked to the damn unsub while the missing couple was on the property. He didn't care what Dave said, Aaron didn't make mistakes like that. He conveniently ignored the fact that the unsub had known about forensic countermeasures and that a large number of unsubs were interviewed at least once by law enforcement prior to their identification as the perpetrator.
He sat in his car for a long time, knowing that if he went to Dave's there would be an argument, but knowing that if he went home, he would just be miserable and alone. Neither sounded fun, but at least with Dave, he knew there would be making up after the argument. He finally sighed and turned toward his lover's house.
When he got there, he let himself in and headed for the kitchen, where he was unsurprised to find Dave pouring two drinks. Dave knew him better than anyone. "That isn't a club I want to be part of," he said.
Dave closed the whiskey bottle and put it back in the cabinet. He turned from the counter and leaned against it a moment, watching Aaron, one corner of his mouth pulling up in an almost smirk, though the tinge of understanding in his eyes kept it from forming into a full one. "Too late," he said.
"You're acting like it's about time I failed at something," Aaron accused. It wasn't precisely fair, but it was how he felt.
"No, I'm trying to make you understand that failure is normal," Dave said. "And that you're not immune. And I'd really rather you not put so much pressure on yourself that you give yourself a stroke; I'm too old to find someone else to keep my bed warm at night," he added lightly, crossing the room to sit at the table and sliding the second glass of whiskey across it in front of the opposite chair.
Aaron snorted and went to sit across from Dave. "Does that mean you're only keeping me around because it's too much effort to look for a replacement?" he said, knowing that wasn't the case. He took a large sip of whiskey and sighed. "That woman--that couple--went through hell because I was too slow. Failure may be normal, but in our job it's unacceptable."
"In our job, it's unavoidable, Aaron." Dave nursed his drink for a moment. "And they're alive. What he did to them? Was despicable, yes, but not your fault."
"It wasn't my fault, but I was there, Dave! I could have stopped it sooner if I'd realized I was talking to him!" Aaron rubbed his fingertips hard against his forehead and closed his eyes. "How could I not have known?"
"He lied. Plain and simple, and he was apparently good at it," Dave countered. "And most unsubs are interviewed at least once before they're caught. You know that, but I suppose you're ignoring it in favor of beating yourself up." Dave sipped his drink. "It's not a very healthy pastime, and it's starting to get a little fucking old, to be honest."
"He shouldn't have been good enough at lying to fool me," Aaron said, shaking his head. "We got interrupted and I let it distract me, thinking we had so many places to go..." He frowned. "I should have known."
"So he seemed normal. If you'd stayed, he would have continued to lie. It happens."
"Yeah, he would have..." Aaron trailed off and sighed, feeling exhausted. "God, Dave, can't you just be sympathetic for once in your fucking life?"
Dave's eyebrows lifted and he shifted in his seat, taking another long drink and eying Aaron over the rim of his glass. That actually sent a little spark of anger through Dave because he had tried sympathy. He'd done his best to take care of Aaron after New York. He'd encouraged him to take some time off. He'd been there practically holding Aaron in front of the whole team when Aaron had nearly deafened himself. And now? Now he was fucking tired of being sympathetic. "That is completely unfair," he said, his voice taking on an edge of warning.
Aaron glared back, his anger flaring again. "Sometimes I don't want to be talked out of being miserable, I just want you to hold me," he snapped.
"I've done that!" Dave's eyes narrowed. "I nearly held you in front of everyone in Lower Canaan, and I've been doing it since New York! Sometimes, you need someone to kick you in the shins, and no one else will do it. Sometimes, you make me want to shoot you when you're so fucking stupid!"
Aaron jerked back, staring at Dave in shock, but after several heartbeats he slumped back down and began to laugh quietly. "That's one of the things I love about you, Dave. You're never afraid to rip me a new one if you think I need it." He took a long sip of his whiskey and shook his head. "I just...I feel like I'm losing my edge. I've been off my game since we got to New York."
Dave felt his shoulders relax, and after a moment, he put his glass down on the table. "Aaron," he said, his voice almost too quiet, too gentle, after what he'd just said. "This self-flagellating has got to stop, or you'll never get your edge back. You're the best SAC I've ever seen, but you're human, and if you keep beating yourself up, you'll be out of the BAU before you know it. And you'll lose part of yourself in the process, part of your soul, because I know it means that much to you. You have to let it go and keep moving forward because the only other direction is backwards, and I can't watch you do that to yourself. I won't."
Aaron slumped down further in his seat, leaning on the table and trying not to look as defeated as he felt. After a moment he realized how useless it was to pretend with Dave, of all people. "It can't be healthy that I need you this much," he murmured. He slid his hand across the table for Dave to take, hoping he would understand.
Dave watched him for a moment, and then reached over and curled his fingers around Aaron's hand. "You've always needed someone." He brushed his thumb along Aaron's hand. "That's not a weakness either."
"Thank you for understanding me," Aaron murmured, looking up at him. "And for encouraging me when I need it, and kicking my ass when I need that." His lips curled faintly. "Apparently I have a bad memory."
Dave's lips twitched, and he gave Aaron's hand a squeeze. "Sometimes I think you don't want to remember; you seem to like wallowing."
"Maybe I do," Aaron admitted. Guilt was easy, that was the problem. Doing anything constructive with it was harder.
Dave smiled a bit, then said, "Next time I won't be so nice." He finished his drink, and then stood, not letting go of Aaron's hand. "It's early, but I think a warm bed is called for."
Aaron stood, too, and smiled more warmly at Dave. "I definitely agree. I need an early night."
Dave pulled Aaron closer and brushed his lips against his. "Go," he murmured, and then pulled away to put the glasses in the dishwasher.
"Come with me," Aaron countered, moving with him and sliding one hand down Dave's back.
"Needy," Dave complained, but he was smiling as he put the glasses up. He turned and slid his hand into the top of Aaron's pants, then tugged him along to the bedroom by his belt.
"You knew that," Aaron said, smiling as he followed. Being yelled at shouldn't make him feel so much better, but it never failed with Dave. When they reached the bedroom, he pressed against Dave's back, kissing his ear. "Will you wear the maroon striped pajamas?" he asked. "They're my favorite."
Dave snorted and turned in Aaron's arms to kiss him. "You're an idiot, and you're lucky to have me," he said warmly, though he usually felt like he was probably the luckier of the two of them. He started tugging Aaron's tie off.
"I know," Aaron said meekly, and kissed him again. He nipped Dave's lower lip. "That probably explains why I love you," he added in a sly tone, and started undressing.
"Probably," Dave agreed, smirking, and started pulling off his own clothes as he walked to the drawer and got out the pajamas Aaron requested.
Aaron couldn't fight the smile that spread across his face as he got his own pajamas out of his assigned drawer and got ready for bed. Dave would never admit it, but he was actually a sweet, loving man under his gruff exterior. Aaron had known that for years, of course, but it was nice to experience it fully now that their time had come. He brushed his teeth quickly and climbed in bed, watching Dave fussing with things as he finished getting ready for bed.
Dave brushed his teeth and straightened a few things, and then climbed into bed, wrapping his arms around Aaron and pressing his face to Aaron's neck. "I think the solid black ones are nicer."
"Huh?" Aaron snuggled against Dave, melting into his embrace. He was so tired, and this felt so good.
"The black ones are nicer than the maroon striped," Dave murmured, kissing Aaron's jaw.
"The black ones are good for sexy," Aaron allowed, closing his eyes and brushing his hand along Dave's arm. "But the maroon striped ones are my favorite, because even though I do think you're sexy, I love you because you're comfortable and fit me better than anyone."
"Oh, great, you're going to be sappy now," Dave complained, grinning. After a few breaths he lifted his head to kiss Aaron thoroughly.
"Shut up, you know you like it," Aaron said, breathlessly, when the kiss ended. He stroked his fingers through Dave's hair and kissed him again. "And if you didn't want me to get all sappy on you, you shouldn't have said you want to shoot me sometimes. You know what that does to me."
Dave's grin somehow went wider, and then he couldn't stop himself from laughing. He shifted to roll them so he was on top of Aaron and kissed him again, pulling back to nip lightly at his lip. Another kiss, this one deeper, and then he was breathless again. "I love you," be whispered.
"I'm glad," Aaron murmured, sliding one leg around Dave's. He gazed warmly up at Dave, thinking there was nowhere in the world he'd rather be at this moment. He wrapped an arm around Dave's waist and kissed him hungrily.
"Mmm," Dave hummed, pressing down against Hotch before he could stop himself. "You know, you're not getting fucked tonight unless you promise to at least try not to be so hard on yourself," he murmured. He knew better than to ask for Aaron to simply not be hard on himself.
Aaron kissed Dave again, arching up against him. "Really?" he murmured, sounding disappointed. "I can try."
Dave sucked in a breath, brushing his lips against Aaron's. After a moment, he pulled back to meet Aaron's gaze, and, God, Aaron was beautiful, the light from the street lamps outside the windows barely illuminating his face. "I can't lose you. I've already done what I came back to do, and I don't want the BAU without you." He stroked his fingers through Aaron's hair and kissed him again, gently. "I mean it."
The words, and that expression on Dave's face, melted Aaron's heart. He kissed Dave tenderly and smiled. "I guess I'll have to listen to you, then," he murmured. "I suppose you're older and wiser, you might know what you're talking about."
Dave nodded, and gave Aaron another slow kiss, then broke away to grumble, "Not that much older."
Aaron laughed and slid his hand down to cup Dave's ass. "Prove it," he murmured against Dave's lips. "Old man."
Dave wedged a leg between Aaron's and smiled against his skin. "My pleasure."
Authors:
innerslytherin and severity_softlyPairing: Hotch/Rossi
Rating: PG-13 (at most!)
Spoilers: mild season four spoilers
Word count: ~2,300
Summary: "That isn't a club I want to be part of," Aaron said.
"Too late," Dave replied.
Notes: RP format. Takes place immediately after the end of Paradise; a coda to the last conversation Hotch and Rossi shared in that episode.
It hadn't exactly been the nicest thing to say, but then David Rossi could never have been accused of particularly caring whether what he said was going to piss someone off or not. All three of his marriages had ended amicably enough, as much as divorces could, but Dave would never delude himself into thinking that his mouth hadn't had a lot to do with the state of disrepair that at least two of those three had fallen into. As much as he hoped Aaron wouldn't go the same way--would have been devastated, in fact, if Aaron did--he still, at times, had trouble censoring himself for the sake of people's feelings, even Aaron's.
"Welcome to the club." Aaron hadn't reacted. Not really. But he had walked away. And they didn't share an SUV on the way to the jet. And they hadn't sat together on the flight home either. So when they got back to Quantico, Dave went to his car without a word, and trusted that Aaron would come to him, in the case that he really needed to talk about what was said, or even chew Dave out. They didn't fight often, but it happened, and usually they were some of the most cathartic conversations they had.
Aaron had spent the past several hours seesawing between being furious at himself and being furious at Dave. Of course, every time either emotion got too strong, the guilt rose up to swamp it, and he started all over at just plain miserable. He was starting to think he'd lost whatever edge he'd had that made him a good profiler. He'd screwed up in New York, he'd screwed up in Colorado, and on this case he'd talked to the damn unsub while the missing couple was on the property. He didn't care what Dave said, Aaron didn't make mistakes like that. He conveniently ignored the fact that the unsub had known about forensic countermeasures and that a large number of unsubs were interviewed at least once by law enforcement prior to their identification as the perpetrator.
He sat in his car for a long time, knowing that if he went to Dave's there would be an argument, but knowing that if he went home, he would just be miserable and alone. Neither sounded fun, but at least with Dave, he knew there would be making up after the argument. He finally sighed and turned toward his lover's house.
When he got there, he let himself in and headed for the kitchen, where he was unsurprised to find Dave pouring two drinks. Dave knew him better than anyone. "That isn't a club I want to be part of," he said.
Dave closed the whiskey bottle and put it back in the cabinet. He turned from the counter and leaned against it a moment, watching Aaron, one corner of his mouth pulling up in an almost smirk, though the tinge of understanding in his eyes kept it from forming into a full one. "Too late," he said.
"You're acting like it's about time I failed at something," Aaron accused. It wasn't precisely fair, but it was how he felt.
"No, I'm trying to make you understand that failure is normal," Dave said. "And that you're not immune. And I'd really rather you not put so much pressure on yourself that you give yourself a stroke; I'm too old to find someone else to keep my bed warm at night," he added lightly, crossing the room to sit at the table and sliding the second glass of whiskey across it in front of the opposite chair.
Aaron snorted and went to sit across from Dave. "Does that mean you're only keeping me around because it's too much effort to look for a replacement?" he said, knowing that wasn't the case. He took a large sip of whiskey and sighed. "That woman--that couple--went through hell because I was too slow. Failure may be normal, but in our job it's unacceptable."
"In our job, it's unavoidable, Aaron." Dave nursed his drink for a moment. "And they're alive. What he did to them? Was despicable, yes, but not your fault."
"It wasn't my fault, but I was there, Dave! I could have stopped it sooner if I'd realized I was talking to him!" Aaron rubbed his fingertips hard against his forehead and closed his eyes. "How could I not have known?"
"He lied. Plain and simple, and he was apparently good at it," Dave countered. "And most unsubs are interviewed at least once before they're caught. You know that, but I suppose you're ignoring it in favor of beating yourself up." Dave sipped his drink. "It's not a very healthy pastime, and it's starting to get a little fucking old, to be honest."
"He shouldn't have been good enough at lying to fool me," Aaron said, shaking his head. "We got interrupted and I let it distract me, thinking we had so many places to go..." He frowned. "I should have known."
"So he seemed normal. If you'd stayed, he would have continued to lie. It happens."
"Yeah, he would have..." Aaron trailed off and sighed, feeling exhausted. "God, Dave, can't you just be sympathetic for once in your fucking life?"
Dave's eyebrows lifted and he shifted in his seat, taking another long drink and eying Aaron over the rim of his glass. That actually sent a little spark of anger through Dave because he had tried sympathy. He'd done his best to take care of Aaron after New York. He'd encouraged him to take some time off. He'd been there practically holding Aaron in front of the whole team when Aaron had nearly deafened himself. And now? Now he was fucking tired of being sympathetic. "That is completely unfair," he said, his voice taking on an edge of warning.
Aaron glared back, his anger flaring again. "Sometimes I don't want to be talked out of being miserable, I just want you to hold me," he snapped.
"I've done that!" Dave's eyes narrowed. "I nearly held you in front of everyone in Lower Canaan, and I've been doing it since New York! Sometimes, you need someone to kick you in the shins, and no one else will do it. Sometimes, you make me want to shoot you when you're so fucking stupid!"
Aaron jerked back, staring at Dave in shock, but after several heartbeats he slumped back down and began to laugh quietly. "That's one of the things I love about you, Dave. You're never afraid to rip me a new one if you think I need it." He took a long sip of his whiskey and shook his head. "I just...I feel like I'm losing my edge. I've been off my game since we got to New York."
Dave felt his shoulders relax, and after a moment, he put his glass down on the table. "Aaron," he said, his voice almost too quiet, too gentle, after what he'd just said. "This self-flagellating has got to stop, or you'll never get your edge back. You're the best SAC I've ever seen, but you're human, and if you keep beating yourself up, you'll be out of the BAU before you know it. And you'll lose part of yourself in the process, part of your soul, because I know it means that much to you. You have to let it go and keep moving forward because the only other direction is backwards, and I can't watch you do that to yourself. I won't."
Aaron slumped down further in his seat, leaning on the table and trying not to look as defeated as he felt. After a moment he realized how useless it was to pretend with Dave, of all people. "It can't be healthy that I need you this much," he murmured. He slid his hand across the table for Dave to take, hoping he would understand.
Dave watched him for a moment, and then reached over and curled his fingers around Aaron's hand. "You've always needed someone." He brushed his thumb along Aaron's hand. "That's not a weakness either."
"Thank you for understanding me," Aaron murmured, looking up at him. "And for encouraging me when I need it, and kicking my ass when I need that." His lips curled faintly. "Apparently I have a bad memory."
Dave's lips twitched, and he gave Aaron's hand a squeeze. "Sometimes I think you don't want to remember; you seem to like wallowing."
"Maybe I do," Aaron admitted. Guilt was easy, that was the problem. Doing anything constructive with it was harder.
Dave smiled a bit, then said, "Next time I won't be so nice." He finished his drink, and then stood, not letting go of Aaron's hand. "It's early, but I think a warm bed is called for."
Aaron stood, too, and smiled more warmly at Dave. "I definitely agree. I need an early night."
Dave pulled Aaron closer and brushed his lips against his. "Go," he murmured, and then pulled away to put the glasses in the dishwasher.
"Come with me," Aaron countered, moving with him and sliding one hand down Dave's back.
"Needy," Dave complained, but he was smiling as he put the glasses up. He turned and slid his hand into the top of Aaron's pants, then tugged him along to the bedroom by his belt.
"You knew that," Aaron said, smiling as he followed. Being yelled at shouldn't make him feel so much better, but it never failed with Dave. When they reached the bedroom, he pressed against Dave's back, kissing his ear. "Will you wear the maroon striped pajamas?" he asked. "They're my favorite."
Dave snorted and turned in Aaron's arms to kiss him. "You're an idiot, and you're lucky to have me," he said warmly, though he usually felt like he was probably the luckier of the two of them. He started tugging Aaron's tie off.
"I know," Aaron said meekly, and kissed him again. He nipped Dave's lower lip. "That probably explains why I love you," he added in a sly tone, and started undressing.
"Probably," Dave agreed, smirking, and started pulling off his own clothes as he walked to the drawer and got out the pajamas Aaron requested.
Aaron couldn't fight the smile that spread across his face as he got his own pajamas out of his assigned drawer and got ready for bed. Dave would never admit it, but he was actually a sweet, loving man under his gruff exterior. Aaron had known that for years, of course, but it was nice to experience it fully now that their time had come. He brushed his teeth quickly and climbed in bed, watching Dave fussing with things as he finished getting ready for bed.
Dave brushed his teeth and straightened a few things, and then climbed into bed, wrapping his arms around Aaron and pressing his face to Aaron's neck. "I think the solid black ones are nicer."
"Huh?" Aaron snuggled against Dave, melting into his embrace. He was so tired, and this felt so good.
"The black ones are nicer than the maroon striped," Dave murmured, kissing Aaron's jaw.
"The black ones are good for sexy," Aaron allowed, closing his eyes and brushing his hand along Dave's arm. "But the maroon striped ones are my favorite, because even though I do think you're sexy, I love you because you're comfortable and fit me better than anyone."
"Oh, great, you're going to be sappy now," Dave complained, grinning. After a few breaths he lifted his head to kiss Aaron thoroughly.
"Shut up, you know you like it," Aaron said, breathlessly, when the kiss ended. He stroked his fingers through Dave's hair and kissed him again. "And if you didn't want me to get all sappy on you, you shouldn't have said you want to shoot me sometimes. You know what that does to me."
Dave's grin somehow went wider, and then he couldn't stop himself from laughing. He shifted to roll them so he was on top of Aaron and kissed him again, pulling back to nip lightly at his lip. Another kiss, this one deeper, and then he was breathless again. "I love you," be whispered.
"I'm glad," Aaron murmured, sliding one leg around Dave's. He gazed warmly up at Dave, thinking there was nowhere in the world he'd rather be at this moment. He wrapped an arm around Dave's waist and kissed him hungrily.
"Mmm," Dave hummed, pressing down against Hotch before he could stop himself. "You know, you're not getting fucked tonight unless you promise to at least try not to be so hard on yourself," he murmured. He knew better than to ask for Aaron to simply not be hard on himself.
Aaron kissed Dave again, arching up against him. "Really?" he murmured, sounding disappointed. "I can try."
Dave sucked in a breath, brushing his lips against Aaron's. After a moment, he pulled back to meet Aaron's gaze, and, God, Aaron was beautiful, the light from the street lamps outside the windows barely illuminating his face. "I can't lose you. I've already done what I came back to do, and I don't want the BAU without you." He stroked his fingers through Aaron's hair and kissed him again, gently. "I mean it."
The words, and that expression on Dave's face, melted Aaron's heart. He kissed Dave tenderly and smiled. "I guess I'll have to listen to you, then," he murmured. "I suppose you're older and wiser, you might know what you're talking about."
Dave nodded, and gave Aaron another slow kiss, then broke away to grumble, "Not that much older."
Aaron laughed and slid his hand down to cup Dave's ass. "Prove it," he murmured against Dave's lips. "Old man."
Dave wedged a leg between Aaron's and smiled against his skin. "My pleasure."
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Date: 2008-10-28 12:38 am (UTC)