Criminal Minds Ch. 02byPelaam©
This is the sequel I got many requests to write.
Chapter 2: Yea Though I Walk
"...there's this place in me where your fingerprints still rest, your kisses still linger and your whispers softly echo. It's the place where a part of you will forever be a part of me." Gretchen Kemp.
Spencer moved as he began to wake and he gave a soft smile as strong arms enveloped him lovingly.
"Morning, beautiful," Derek whispered in the small ear he found under the thick, dark hair.
"Morning, lover," Spencer murmured, easing closer to the powerful body and feeling the hard evidence of Derek's desire. Although there were times their love-making was powerful and passionate, Spencer also relished the times when it could be slow and sensual. He moaned softly as Derek's body undulated against him, his mate's hard column of flesh sliding proprietarily between his buttocks. He then slithered to face the older man.
The two men lay entwined at first, simply holding each other, sharing a look that went beyond the surface and deep into their joined souls. Then Derek reached out a hand and stroked Spencer's face, the brunette leaning into the touch and smiling gently at him. They slowly caressed their bodies, each appreciating the sensual nature of skin sliding across skin. The unhurried pace always added an erotic dimension to their foreplay.
As if at a silent signal, they moved forward and pressed their lips together. Initially just a barely-there brush of lips against lips which, as their hunger grew, deepened their connection. Mouths widened, allowing tongues to sinuously twist and stroke in an ageless dance. Instinctively, their bodies moved closer and there was a shared groan as their hard shafts met and slid along one another. As Derek broke away, gasping for breath, Spencer used the opportunity to gracefully slide to lie across the bigger body. He ground his hard member down into the older man, who bucked up against him.
"I love you, pretty baby," Derek moaned as he grasped Spencer' hips to still his movements. "I'll come too quickly if you don't stop for a minute," he added on a soft laugh as Spencer tried determinedly to wriggle his hips.
"Are you trying to saying you're too old to recover?" Spencer asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He dropped his head to lick and nip one luscious nub and then the other as Derek's hands remained holding his hips in place.
Derek growled and grabbed Spencer firmly before rolling the brunette beneath him.
"It's you who'll need to recover, my love."
Spencer yelped as Derek bit down on his neck, the primitive gesture sending bolts of lust through his lower belly. He always found Derek's power and possessiveness potent aphrodisiacs. The bite was not hard to enough to cause any real pain or damage, but the slow, sensual sucking that ensued would ensure Spencer wore a badge of Derek's possession. One he would wear with joy.
"I give in," he groaned as the older man eased away from the morsel of flesh he had assiduously marked. "I want to feel you in me, lover," he added, dropping his voice to the sensual purr he knew drove Derek wild. His hand moved down to grasp his own shaft, stroking it lightly. "I ache for you, Derek."
"I love you, Spencer, with all that I am and all that I have to give," Derek said, his mocha eyes holding the gaze of liquid chocolate.
"And I you, until the end of time," Spencer affirmed.
Derek dropped a kiss to perfect lips and reached over to the well-used tube on the bedside table. Kneeling up, he opened it and poured a generous amount between Spencer's willingly wide-spread thighs. He stared entranced as the viscous gel disappeared between pale cheeks. He spread more on his fingers, before reaching down to gently tease the furled opening to his lover's body. He stroked across the sensitive flesh until it pulsed, inviting him to delve deeper. The walls were still slick from their love-making the previous night and the memory of Spencer's sublime heat enveloping him made Derek groan with the desire to experience paradise once more.
His lover still needed stretching and he slid the single finger inside, stroking his lover's tight walls until they gave way and allowed another to enter. He brushed Spencer' sweet spot sparingly, wanting to tease the brunette without allowing him to find release until he was buried deep in the beautiful body. Spencer moaned and writhed in wanton abandonment, a sight that made Derek's aching shaft throb with desire. He pressed in a third, his lover accepting the digits and riding them, thrusting his slender hips upwards to take them deeper.
When he deemed his lover ready Derek lubed his hard flesh and guided it to the waiting portal. He paused for a moment, waiting for Spencer's eyes to lock with his own before he pushed forward. The younger man moaned softly as Derek pressed forward, not stopping until his heavy sac met Spencer's rounded flesh. He could see Spencer found maintaining eye contact difficult when the younger man wanted to give himself over to the sensations coursing through his body. Derek paused when he could go no further. Both men smiled at one another, relishing the moment of union.
With a gentle movement, Derek moved carefully until his weight was distributed across Spencer's body. His hands sought his mate's and, entwining their fingers, his mouth found its counterpart. As his tongue thrust forwards, so did his hips, a shallow thrust to test Spencer's readiness. When the younger man thrust back Derek smiled into the kiss. He pulled away, far enough so that he could look into Spencer's eyes as he thrust forward again. They both groaned at the sensation and when the brunette clenched his inner muscles around Derek, he almost lost control. Resisting the need to drive forward, he kept his pace slow and controlled, his mouth moving against Spencer's throat as he murmured words of love against sweet-tasting skin.
The slow, gentle pace was just what Spencer wanted. He let Derek glide back and forth, his sweet spot raked with every thrust. He braced his feet on the bed as he pushed back into Derek's thrusts. Now they were in their rhythm, their hands parted and Spencer's roamed freely across his lover's skin. He memorised the texture of every millimetre he could reach as he did every time they made love. He keened softly as Derek's shaft brushed over his hidden jewel once more, a sound of his unashamed desire. The sound finally fracturing Derek's self-imposed control as he felt the older man begin to thrust more forcibly.
Spencer groaned loudly in pleasure, unconsciously feeding Derek's triumphant desire as the bigger man's movements increased in intensity. Derek reached between them to stroke his lover's proud flesh to bring them to a mutual completion. He moaned as Spencer reached his zenith, the narrow strait clenching around his already primed shaft. Pearlescent liquid erupted to anoint their bare chests with proof of his mate's fulfilment and the contracting inner muscles of the tight sheath pushed Derek over the edge. His seed ejaculated from his body to fill his lover, the older man husking Spencer's name.
They lay together afterwards, not wanting to separate their satiated bodies. Lazy kisses were shared and their limbs remained tangled intimately. Neither had ever felt so much happiness. The love they shared always strengthened them for the rigours of the day ahead.
"The truly brave are soft of heart and eyes and feel for what their duty bids them do." Lord Byron.
"So they lov'd as love in twain had the essence but in one; two distinct, divisions none." Shakespeare.
Once in work, Spencer and Derek focused on the task in hand. Spencer had made the first breakthrough in their latest case. It seemed they were looking for someone who had been abused as a child. The unsub was targeting wealthy, professional couples who were actively trying to conceive. In each case the couple were killed quickly, a small mercy. Their homes were all perfect, immaculate and remained so on the outside. However, the unsub seemed to go berserk inside. They smashed rooms, left the freezer switched off so food defrosted and spoilt, leaving only the room designated as the nursery untouched. Spencer hypothesised that it was a reflection of the unsub themselves and what had happened in their childhood. What appeared to be a perfect and idyllic home on the outside was broken and despoiled on the inside and the unsub, whilst appearing normal, was equally broken.
Rossi smiled affectionately at Derek and Spencer as he spotted the two men. Spencer's fingers were flying over the computer and Derek watched occasionally directing a loving smile at his oblivious partner. They were a perfect couple, a balance of brain and brawn that seemed to bring out the best in both. He watched as Spencer gestured with his hands to get a point across and Derek nodded his face thoughtful. It looked as though the couple were about to leave as Spencer stood and Derek took his elbow to usher him forward.
"Think we may have a lead," Derek said as they headed out, pausing to update the older man. "We'll call it in if we get anywhere."
"The brave man is not he who feels no fear. For that were stupid and irrational; but he whose noble soul its fears subdues." Joanna Baillie
"Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction." Antoine de Saint-Exupery.
Derek and Spencer sat in their vehicle. They had parked away from an isolated house they hoped belonged to the unsub. They had pulled off the road and concealed their car in the surrounding woodland area. Their fingers were now entwined as Derek switched off the engine. Under normal circumstances, the small, intimate gesture was easily hidden and one they used before facing danger. In this case, however, they were obscured by trees and Derek drew Spencer to him in a slow, deep kiss.
"Love you, pretty baby," he whispered. "Let's take care with this ok? If this is our girl and she's home, we know she can use a gun."
"Love you, Derek," Spencer replied, nuzzling at the bigger man. "You take care, too."
With economy of movement, the two men headed to the house.
"What is rare is the courage to follow the talent to the dark places where it leads." Erica Jong
"Love is not finding someone to live with. It's finding someone you can't live without." Rafael Ortiz.
The house looked idyllic, with a white picket fence, an immaculately tended lawn and weed-free flower beds.
"It looks too perfect," Derek murmured. Both men had their guns ready as he knocked on the door. Receiving no answer, Derek kicked it open and both men entered keeping low, firearms raised, shouting a warning. Only silence and stillness met them. Cautiously they ventured further inside.
"This isn't how I envisioned it," Spencer mused. "I expected it to be haphazard inside reflecting the inner conflict of the unsub."
"Wait here," Derek said as he moved ahead. The house was a single story and they had entered into a sitting room that was perfectly arranged and was the embodiment of a nineteen-sixty's home. As he passed into the dining room, with a table set with silver before him, Derek knew he had seen some anomaly. Something niggled as he looked back to where he could see Spencer's slender form as the younger man looked around.
There. It was a clock, but not a clock, an LCD display that was out of place with the rest of the house. It was too modern. And it was counting down, with only seconds left. Derek's eyes were wide in a mix of fear and horror.
"Out, out, Spencer! Get out!" He bellowed his warning as he barrelled forward.
Spencer whirled, looking for the danger at the shout from his mate. He gasped as Derek's solid form crashed into his, knocking the breath from his body. He heard a dull sound as the floor beneath him gave way. For a second or two there was a dizzying sensation of freefall, then Spencer screamed at the fire of agony in his thigh before everything went black.
As Spencer slowly regained awareness, he coughed from the dust that pervaded everywhere: his hair, his mouth, his eyes. However, the cough became a cry of pain as agony lanced through his frame, centring in his thigh. It was already going dark and so it was difficult to see even that short distance. He tentatively allowed a hand to drift downwards. He whimpered softly as his fingers found the large shard of wood imbedded in his flesh. He could feel the blood that had soaked through his pants. At least it had not punctured an artery. At the sound of a pained groan, Spencer pushed aside his own hurt. Biting his lip so hard that a familiar coppery taste hit his tongue, Spencer crawled to find the man he loved.
"Derek," he husked, coughing past more dust. "Derek, I'm here." He found the older man just a short distance away. Lovingly he brushed away the dust and debris on his mate's face before dropping a kiss to Derek's lips. "Where does it hurt, love?" he asked.
"My head's pounding, pretty baby," Derek whispered. "Hurts so much. Hurts to open my eyes and if I try it's just blurred. Think I may have a concussion."
With care and tenderness, Spencer lifted Derek's head. There was a large lump as well as dried blood on the back of the older man's skull. Spencer knew they both needed medical attention, but in his condition and in the dark, he knew there was little he could do at that moment. He struggled out of his shirt, using it as a pillow for Derek. He then ran his hands over his lover's body checking for any injuries Derek was not aware of. He glanced at the older man. He looked pale and Spencer knew how dangerous concussion could be. No one knew where they were and Derek could not be left too long. It all came down to him. Somehow, in some way, he had to figure a way out of this. Derek was dependent on him.
"It's too dark to try and find a way out," he said as he stroked Derek's face. "I need to try and keep you awake if possible. Fortunately dawn comes early this time of year. Once it's getting light I'll see how we can get out."
"You ok, pretty boy?" Derek asked. "You're not hurt?"
"Scraped, splintered and bruised," Spencer hedged. "Nothing that some TLC won't cure." He told himself it was not a lie, just a little obfuscation to alleviate any worry from his lover. Derek did not need the added stress.
"Ok," Derek sighed.
For the next few hours, Spencer kept up a litany of facts from his encyclopaedic mental store interspersed with questioning Derek about anything that came to the tiring man's mind. His voice was fading and Derek's responses were getting weaker as light finally began to illuminate their surroundings.
To Spencer's relief there was a window set head-high that he hoped would be their salvation. If he could crawl through and get to the car, he could call for help. Derek's cellphone had been damaged in the fall and his own was in the glove compartment of the car where he had carelessly thrown it intending to slip it back into his pocket. Despite his fear of how much it was going to hurt to pull himself through the small opening and then make his way to the car, the knowledge that Derek depended on him fortified Spencer. For his lover's sake he vanquished it. He took a deep breath.
"Love you, Derek," he said, infusing his voice with everything he felt for the older man.
"Love you, pretty baby," Derek rasped. "Be careful, love," he added, wishing his injury was less debilitating and hating the feeling of helplessness. He wanted to take care of his beloved. An instinct he could not explain was niggling at the periphery of his awareness that something was not right with his mate. He listened to Spencer's occasional pained gasps as the younger man acted on his plan, the sounds sending cold tendrils through Derek's frame.
Spencer was grateful for the stored boxes that gave him enough extra height to get his head and shoulder through the window. Trying to put as little weight as possible on his injured leg, Spencer heaved with deceptive strength to pull himself up through the window. He bit back the scream that threatened as his leg was jarred, Derek needed him strong and he would not let his lover down. With a last fortifying breath, he began to ease the rest of his lithe frame through the small opening. As he dragged his legs onto the grass Spencer lay, panting, waiting for the waves of pain to ease a little. Finally able to speak, he leant towards the window.
"I'm out. Hold on, love."
The voice was faint and Derek wanted nothing more than to hold his lover once more. His hand moved to where Spencer had lain beside him and the cold tendrils enveloped his heart with icy fear. The ground was damp and sticky. His hand shook as he brought his fingers to his face. The scent of blood, Spencer's blood, assailed his nostrils. His mate had been hurt and had still cared selflessly for him. He felt the tears prick his eyes.
"Be alright, love." He whispered. "Please be alright."
"Fear and love can never be experienced at the same time. It is always our choice as to which of these emotions we want." Gerald Jampolsky
"So dear I love him, that with him all deaths I could endure. Without him live no life." Shakespeare.
Stretching a little, Derek resettled to keep watch over Spencer's still-sleeping form. It was a similar vigil to when the younger man had been at risk from anthrax poisoning. He felt the same cold dread then as now but kept reassuring himself that the doctors had told him Spencer was sleeping naturally. On arrival at the hospital, his lover had been swept away from him to be given transfusions and pumped with antibiotics. The wound to Spencer's thigh, due to the dust, dirt and debris, had been infected and needed washing out. As a consequence, for the nearly sixty hours they had been in hospital, Spencer was yet to recover consciousness. It would be the answer to Derek's almost continual, silent prayers to see the espresso eyes open and look at him.
As he watched his precious young love, Derek remembered how the doctors had been amazed at the slender man's ability to remain conscious despite the blood he had lost. How Rossi and Hotch had said it defied logic that, with his injury, Spencer had managed to squeeze through the window. How he had unerringly found his way to the car and only lost consciousness after calling for the ambulance and backup. For Derek these were miracles he would not take for granted nor question. In his mind their love had empowered Spencer and it was knowledge that they could both draw courage from in the future.
He leant forward as long, dark lashes fluttered against pale skin.
"That's it, pretty baby," Derek urged. "Let me see those beautiful eyes."
The single word was uttered in a voice rusty from disuse, but it was like an angel's song to Derek's ears.
"I'm here, love."
Limpid pools of liquid chocolate were finally revealed and the love he saw in them almost took Derek's breath away. He manoeuvred to be able to claim Spencer's lips, the familiar taste and feel helping to banish the fear for his mate.
"You're ok?" Spencer whispered dryly. He smiled appreciatively as Derek positioned a straw to his lips to allow him to take a couple of swallows of water.
"I'm fine. You were the one we worried about, Spencer. You've been out of it for nearly three days. Don't ever not tell me if you're hurt in the future. Please, baby," Derek added as he felt Spencer tense. "I found the blood after you'd gone. I don't ever want to feel as helpless and afraid as I did then. I love you."
"I love you, too," Spencer whispered.
"You're my hero, baby," Derek husked. "And when I can get you out of here I'll give you all the TLC you could ever wish for."
"Just the incentive I need," Spencer smiled as he felt his eyes close.